Harry Potter and Lily's Contingency Plans
by FacelessSage
Summary: Lily Potter was known as the brightest witch of her age. So, why were there no contingency plans in place? Why did she rely on just her Will, knowing that it could have been suppressed by anyone with enough political clout? No, Lily Potter was not known as the brightest witch of her generation for nothing. She had plans in place to help her son from beyond the grave.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**\- This is not my sandbox but I am going to play in it at least once. The reason for that is very simple, 'The damned muse won't go away.'.

It is not possible to promise something delightfully new when there are over 1000k fanfictions available on the Internet. The least I could promise is for it to be entertaining. Just so people know what this story will entail, I will do the tags here. Smart!Neutral! Harry, Manipulative! Dumbledore. No bashing. If someone feels like I have bashed a character then it would be someone I really don't like. I am not going to go out of my way to bash anyone.

**Summary- **Harry Potter knew more better than to rely on others. _So why did he trust Hogwart's faculty as easily as he did?_ Harry Potter knew better than anyone to keep his head down and avoid attention. _So why did he suddenly have no problems with the attention that was focussed on him while in the magical school?_ Harry Potter knew better than to charge ahead recklessly. _So why did he suddenly feel that it was his job to save the day every time something came up? _

**A/N :- **Harry Potter was a ritually abused and neglected child who considered Hogwarts to be his home. I never understood why he would willingly break as many rules as he did if he feared expulsion so much? This is my version of Harry Potter who has a sense of self-preservation that can match the slyest of slytherins and knows more about his place in the world because of the help of his mother.

**HpLcp**

Chapter 1

Pivet drive No. 4,

Little Whinging, Surrey.

August 3rd ,1992.

_"After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."_

Headmaster Dumbledore's words echoed in his mind once again as Harry laid on his cot and stared outside. Dudley's second bedroom, or Harry's room, had another addition to its sparse furniture- bars on the window and a cat-flap on the door.

Harry wondered why his headmaster would tell a twelve-year old that death was an adventure. At first, Harry assumed that the old man was going senile. It was not his fault for thinking that, many students were of the opinion that the headmaster had a few screws lose.

But then he discarded that idea. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was not just a headmaster. He was also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwamp of the International Confederation of Wizards. Both of those jobs involved politics.

While Harry didn't know much about the things those jobs entailed, he at least understood that they both involved careful use of words. Only a few days ago, he had heard his Uncle complaining about the way the media twisted some politician's words resulting in a lot of slander for him.

And that brought him to the dilemma he was facing. _Why did Albus Dumbledore tell a twelve-year old boy that death should be accepted when it came?_ At the end of his first year, Harry Potter had faced the murderer of his parents and countless others in the form of his DADA professor.

While it was true that Professor Quirrell was possessed by the spirit of Lord Voldemort, it didn't change the fact that he had a close call with death. Nor did it change the fact the he had killed Quirrell in self-defence.

Oh, it was true that Professor Quirrell was almost dead the moment he got possessed by the spirit of Lord Voldemort as Professor Dumbledore told him. But it didn't stop him from having dreams about those cruel lifeless eyes that stared at him and accused him of their murder.

It was true. Harry had killed in self-defence. He had taken a life. And in taking a life he had lost his innocence. Something fundamental had changed within him. He told both of his friends- Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, that he didn't remember what happened when he touched Professor Quirrell. It was a lie.

He had feared that they would turn away from him. That they would not want a murderer as their friend. That they would flinch whenever they saw him. Oh, he knew that they would stare at him in horror and revulsion if he told them how he could feel the skin melting from Quirrell's body when he touched him. There were times when he couldn't look at himself in mirror without flinching at what he had become.

He had spent most of his summer locked in his room where he was only allowed to get out twice a day. Once in the morning to cook breakfast for his relatives, if he could call them that, and once in the evening to use the restroom. The only salvation that he had expected that summer was that he had two friends who would at least send him letters.

And just like everything else in his short life, that had been a disappointment as well. He had waited for the letters from his friends everyday since he got back. And that was all he did for the major part of the summer when he wasn't doing chores for his relatives.

_Maybe they don't want to be friends with a murderer? _A small voice insisted from the back of his mind. It brought all of his self-doubts and insecurities that he had tried very hard to bury deep inside. He waited and waited for their letters as he himself was unable to send his own.

His relatives had taken away his things and locked them in his previous bedroom- the cupboard under the stairs. They had also locked his owl- Hedwig, inside her cage. So, he had no means to contact his friends. To get the assurance that they still wanted to remain friends with him.

Day after day passed and he resigned himself to the understanding that they didn't want to be his friends. And somehow, he found himself perfectly alright with that thought. See, Harry Potter didn't have friends for the first ten years of his life. So, he was perfectly alright with being alone.

Imagine his surprise when he found out that his friends had sent him letters but they were intercepted by a crazy house-elf named Dobby. The same crazy house-elf whose actions led him to have a broken arm, a warning for unauthorized use of magic and being starved for the past three days.

It was safe to assume that Harry was not amused by this. His temper had always been his biggest flaw and in his temper, he had binned those letters without reading them. His relatives had taken great delight in pointing out the lack of communication from his friends. _After all, who would want to be friends with a freak?_

Oh, he had tried to retrieve those letters. Unfortunately, they were gone by the time his temper cooled down. So, here he was, staring out of the window and going through the events of his first year. Things that he could have done better.

And he realized, that there were plenty of things that didn't make sense with his behaviour in the first year of his magical education at Hogwarts.

Harry prided himself in the fact that he was not a bigot. After all he was nothing like his relatives. And his relatives were the most bigoted people he had ever seen. Oh, he was biased about them but with the way they treated him, was he wrong in doing so?

But then, somehow before he reached Hogwarts, he had the perception that everyone from the house of Slytherin was evil and the Dumbledore could do no wrong. How did that happen?

Looking back, he understood just how that happened. He didn't think that there was something like a conspiracy involved, it could have just been a strange set of coincidences. Even that theory had many holes.

He was of the understanding that a staff member was required to introduce a muggle-born student to the world of magic. So why was a groundskeeper sent for him? No offence to Hagrid but the big fellow was not the right person to introduce a muggle-born child to the world of magic.

His hero-worship of Albus Dumbledore aside, Harry wan not given anything that should have been and had been provided to other muggle-born students. Things like brochures about Hogwarts, information about magical Britain in general, available subjects, means of magical transportation, a brief guide to magical customs. None of this was provided to him.

And that was before Hagrid introduced him as a celebrity in the Diagon Alley. Why was a grounds-keeper sent for the introduction of a very famous celebrity to the world of magic? He would have hoped for someone with authority over children to do the task. Especially if he was as important as the people considered him to be.

Even more suspect was the fact that the key of his trust vault was with the headmaster of a school. The same headmaster that he had heard nothing about. If that wasn't enough to make him wary, there were many things that seemed suspicious in hindsight now.

Harry Potter thought of himself to be the kind of boy who would avoid confrontation at any cost. Being bullied regularly since the early years of his childhood, he understood very well that he shouldn't antagonize the bullies further by making disparaging remarks.

'Harry Hunting', a game played by his cousins and his friends, taught him to run as fast as possible and to avoid people like them if possible. After all, he was just a little runt with a bad reputation because of his relatives that no one in any position of authority would believe his word over other's.

So, why did he antagonize Draco Malfoy, a boy from a significantly powerful family, in defence of a boy he had known only for hours? No, despite what anybody said, that was not in his nature. He had been a victim of systematic bullying for a long time to make enemies as recklessly as he did.

And that is not taking into consideration that he knew nothing about the term 'blood-traitor' that was used by Malfoy in the first. There might have been a feud going on between those two families that he knew nothing about.

Those two things and the talk with Ronald's father about the houses had worked wonders for his world view. And somehow when the time of his sorting came, he was prepared to do anything he could to avoid being sorted in the house of snakes.

_'All the dark wizards come from the house of snakes.'_

_'Voldemort was said to be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin.'_

_Be careful of the house of green, they are__never up to any good.'_

One thing common that everyone he met before the school started said along with vilifying Slytherins were the praises of Albus Dumbledore and House of Gryffindor. He still couldn't understand how he became a bigot in such a small amount of time.

Oh, don't get him wrong. He was bullied by some slytherin over the course of the year but it was not like his house didn't add fuel to the fire. Especially the Weasley-twins. He understood that they were just trying to be funny most of the times but they were doing it at the cost of other's humiliation. That just made them bullies in his mind.

There were many such inconsistencies that he noticed over the year. Ronald Weasley and his family being one of them. The boy himself was very lazy with only two things that he focussed on. Quidditch and Chess. None of them were especially desirable to Harry.

Oh, he was seeker of his team but only because he was too afraid that he was going to be expelled that he didn't realize that he got drafted for the house team. He liked flying, there was no doubt about it but quidditch was far too dangerous a game for him to enjoy. Seriously, what kind of game had people targeting each other with large metallic balls?

The boy, Ronald, was the sixth youngest of the seven children their family had. From what he was told, his eldest brother worked as a curse breaker with the goblins, his second eldest brother who studied dragons.

They had their own experience with dragon that year too. And Harry was sufficiently convinced that he didn't want to see another for a long time. They had helped the grounds keeper in illegal transportation of a dragon to the continent. And had gotten caught after that. Enough said.

Their third youngest Percy was perhaps the only one he could respect. Not because of his stuck-up attitude or his desire to follow rules but because the boy had his priorities straight. Unlike his younger siblings, Percy was more serious regarding his studies and career.

The twins, while talented, seemed to have more time to cause mischief and bully others and Ron spent his time learning things about quidditch and practicing chess. And somehow, Harry got involved in being lazy and wasting time with him. That attitude, like many other things, didn't make sense to him.

When he was preparing to go to Hogwarts, the first thing that he realised was that he would no longer have to score less than his cousin. He was going to a completely new world and he had a desire to learn everything about it, just like every other muggle-born student.

The fact that he wasted his time in meaningless things like quidditch and chess and exploring and butting his nose in others business worried him. That was not how he normally behaved.

All these things weren't what made him wary of the Weasley family. No, it was the pity-gift that they sent him on christmas that made him dislike them. It was not like they knew each other well enough to send gifts.

He considered it extremely rude and decided to stay away from such presumptuous people. The fact that they were called blood-traitors in their own society was a factor too. He understood that he didn't know much about the wizarding society to make judgement but he knew enough to understand that anything that ended with traitor was not good.

Then there was the troll incident of the night of Halloween, what possessed him to jump on the back of a mountain troll and stick his wand in its nose? While he didn't mind the results of his actions, they saved a girl, he was shocked at the way he acted.

The troll was more than twice his size and he jumped on his back. That was so much out of his normal character that he almost considered it a dream. But it had happened and he didn't know why he did the things that he did.

And all these things brought him to the heart of the matter- the philosophers stone. He wondered if he had not interfered with the traps then the Dark Lord would have spent eternity in front of the mirror. After all, that was what the 'Mirror of Erised' was for. The mirror that showed the deepest desire of the person.

It was a trap for the thief that was trying to steal the philosopher's stone but instead of a normal person, they were dealing with a professor who was possessed by a Dark Lord._ I wouldn't have had to take Quirrell's life if I had not poked my nose into others business. _

That was all it was for. The school was used as a trap to draw out the thief. A bloody school was used to draw out the thief who was courageous enough to try and steal from a goblin bank. And three first year students were able to go past all the traps and stop the dark lord.

Ronald had once said that they were tests put up for Harry Potter. Harry was re-evaluating the credibility of that statement. And he didn't like the conclusion he was reaching.

_The dark lord was trying to make a come-back._

_The headmaster didn't seem too shocked by that._

_The same headmaster set a trap in a bloody school by bringing a very valuable artefact._

_The headmaster advises a twelve-year boy that it is alright to accept death._

This didn't put a good picture in his mind. And now there was warning from a crazy house-elf that there was going to be danger at Hogwarts. From his limited interaction with the elf, Harry also realized that the elf was crazy enough to do anything to make sure that he couldn't reach Hogwarts.

A soft hoot from Hedwig brought his attention back to her cage in the corner of his small room. "I am alright, Hedwig. The pain is dulled enough that it doesn't bother me too much." He smiled when she hooted a reply. He was always able to understand his owl. Or at least the gist of it.

"Yes, I will be fine as soon as I get back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomphrey would be able to fix it in a jiffy." He smiled at the bird. "Hedwig? Do you think that the Potter's had house-elfs?" He cursed himself for not taking any initiative to know more about his family.

The bird hooted something in answer. "You think I should try calling for them?" A hoot later, he shrugged and tried. "Uh, Potter elf?" He had not hoped for there to be loud pop in the room. Nor did he expect an elf to answer the call.

"Who's is calling Mispy?" The little elf looked around the room before she spotted Harry. "Young master Harry." The little elf squealed and rushed forward dancing circles around Harry. "I's been waiting for your call for a very long time." The elf bowed and touched her head to his hand.

"What are you talking about?" Harry frowned. "I didn't even know the Potter family had any elf." The little elf seemed to straighten up at that and looked around. Frowning Mispy scrunched her face and closed her eyes.

A few moments later her eyes snapped open and widened. "You is not supposed to be here." Her shrill voice made his frown. "Nobody wants to be here Mispy. It's not like I have anywhere else to go to." He shrugged while scratching his neck with his unbroken arm.

"No, no." The little elf said in distress. "You is not supposed to stay with Mistress Lily's muggle sister. You is supposed to stay with magical family." Harry frowned in confusion. "No magical family has said anything about that to me through any means."

"I have spent one year in magical Britain now. I do not think I would accept their offer, if they ever contact me." He sighed. There was no way he was going to go live with a magical family he knew nothing about.

At least with Dursley, he knew what to expect. He was not going to go with the first family that showed their face. He was not that desperate. Mispy closed her eyes for a few more moments before snapping. He didn't understand but he was certain the little elf did magic. Great, now he was going to receive another warning.

"Then I's must follow Mistress's instructions." Her ears flapped as she nodded enthusiastically. "You's be going to live at Lily's Pad. Mistress Lily's instructions were precise." Harry frowned as he saw the elf move around and make his things disappear with a snap of her fingers.

"What were these instructions, Mispy?" He asked to the enthusiastic elf who had managed to get his things from the cupboard they were locked in and had made them disappear along with Hedwig. "I's sorry but Mistress Lily's orders were precise. I's not supposed to tell anyone. You will know when you get there."

She took his and snapped her fingers. "Wait…" Harry never got a chance to protest as he felt his first apparition.

Had Harry stayed, he would have received the warning from the underaged magic control department.

Had Harry stayed, he would have seen the purple face of his Uncle shouting at the department member that was sent to investigate the lack of reply to his underage use of magic hearing with Madam Bones.

Had he stayed, he would have seen how his uncle saved him from getting expelled by denying that Harry was present in the household. Instead, they told the member that Harry had gone to attend a summer camp and then proceeded to rip him a new one while shouting about disturbing normal and upstanding citizens.

Had he stayed, he would have witnessed the somewhat heroic attempt by Ronald Weasley and his twin brothers to rescue him. Well, he would have read about it in the Daily Prophet. The large fine that Arthur Weasley had to pay for his son's stupidity was laughed about in many pureblood circles.

**HpLcp**

Harry blinked when the sensation of being forced through a very tight rubber tube diminished and promptly threw up. "My apologies Master Harry, but I was specifically instructed by Mistress Lily to not tell you anything until we were in Lily's pad."

The little elf snapped her fingers and handed him a vial of potion. "Here, drink this. It will cure nausea and help settle your stomach, sir." Without thinking, Harry uncorked the vial and drank its contents.

The effects were instantaneous and Harry felt better than before. He looked around and saw that he standing in a small room that was connected to another room. "Where are we?" He asked in wonder as he saw the various strange silver magical instruments that puffed smoke at regular intervals.

"We's in Lily's pad, Young master Harry. Your mother lived here before she married Master James and moved into the Potter family house. We are in Diagon Alley." Harry's eyes widened when he saw people moving around in Diagon alley.

"Can't they see us?" He noticed that nobody saw in his direction as if he was invisible. "This place is under Fidelius charm of potter family magic, young master. Only those of Potter blood will be able to see it as there is no Lord Potter present." The elf squeaked as she waited patiently beside him.

"Master James was not able to pass the requirements for being the heir of house Potter." The elf squeaked out when Harry prompted for more information. "Why was my father not able to become Lord Potter?" He asked in confusion.

"The Lord Potter bows to no one." The elf seemed oddly proud when she said that. "Master James followed the leadership of someone from a lesser house despite many warnings from Lord Charlus. The ring of Potters rejected master James because of that." The elf looked about ready to cry so Harry hurried to change the topic.

"But I don't have any heir ring to get the knowledge of this place." He wondered out loud. "You's don't need it. The blood knows, the magic knows." He titled his head and wondered about it. "You mean that the family magic is sentient?" He had heard a few purebloods talking about it. He never thought that to be true.

"Yes, it is." Mispy said with narrowed eyes. "You's must go to sleep. Mispy has to heal your body with potions and begin your lessons. Mistress Lily and Mistress Dorea knew you's would be left uneducated in the ways befitting of a Potter if there was no one left to guide you's. Vultures, they claimed, would ensure that the scion of the ancient and noble house of Potter would not know his place in the world."

"Potters have been here for long. Potters must stay for a very long time. They's have a duty, Lord Charlus claimed. They must be taught their ways before its too late." Mispy claimed with a faraway look in her eyes.

"How many elfs do we have, Mispy?" He made a mental note to learn about house-elfs as soon as he could. "Only I is left Master Harry. Other were there. They were bound to Lord Charlus and his lady wife Dorea. They died when Lord and Lady Potter left us." She bowed her head but Harry could hear her sniffle and winced.

"Some bonded with Master James and Mistress Lily, they too died when they left us." Harry closed his eyes as he remembered killing Quirrell and the spirit of Voldemort leaving the body. Feeling dizzy, he asked Mispy to take him to his bedroom.

Had he asked, he would have known that the potion had a diluted sleeping draught mixed in it too. He would stay asleep for a week while his house elf healed his body with various potions and prepared a ritual room to deal with the soul leech stuck in his scar.

Lily Potter had studied the ancient spell she used to protect her extensively. She understood, that the chances that a very small part of Voldemort's soul would get stuck in any nearby living body were great. Just as she understood that the chances of that being her baby boy were very high as well. She didn't want her little baby to deal with a dark lord trying to take over his body.

A week later, Harry Potter would wake up feeling like a completely new person with a new body. He would miss learning about the Weasley incident but by the time he would learn about it, he would be past the stage where he cared about the Weasleys anyway.

**HpLcp**

**A/N :- **Yeah, I am not going to buy the whole blood-wards thing. If a crazy house elf was able to find Harry, then I am sure any death eater would have been able to find him if they wanted to. Death eaters are sure to be smarter than a house elf.

Lily Potter was the smartest witch of her age. Or at least people claimed that she was very brilliant. Then, why would she rely on just a piece of paper (Potter's Wills) to ensure that her son got the upbringing that she would have been satisfied with? No, she would have done her best to ensure that her son was safe or she would have left the magical Britain all together. Her son was more important than a thousand strangers to her. Nothing new about it.


	2. Chapter 2

A small error with the dates has been fixed. Can't believe I missed that. Thanks for pointing it out to me. The time line for this chapter goes like this. - 1981, 1981,1981, 1985, 1992, 1992.

100 favs and 200 alerts in just few days!!

Two thoughts ran through my mind when I saw the response for the first chapter. The first one was Wow, the second was Yikes. Why? Because when I wrote the first chapter, I only had a vague idea of the way I wanted things to be.

I wanted to try something different; though I am not sure if I can succeed but I am sure that I will try my best, while writing this story. I have read the reviews and I appreciate them all. Good and bad.

I cannot answer any of them because even I don't know how the story is going to play out. Though I can assure you that this story is not about marriage contracts or things like that. I can also assure you that I am not going to bash any characters; other than a few jokes I might add at their expense.

Enough babbling from the crazy author, he can ramble all day. Author's note are usually his thoughts when he was writing the chapter. And while there are many and not all of them related to the chapter, the author has managed to filter a few relevant ones in the from A/N's.

Do you think I should start searching for a beta?

If I try and think really hard, will all my head-canons come true?

**A/N :-** We have read many stories where Harry gets to be the heir to many houses as soon as he asks the right questions to goblins. But what if he had only one lordship to inherit (not counting the Black one at the moment) and that too didn't come with a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot? What if the lordship was very difficult to gain? What if he only had a small fortune that didn't make him the richer than half the magical Britain? What if… I think that is long enough for now, isn't it?

All the dates are approximate and imaginations of the crazy author, he has a habit of researching canon facts and twist them to suit his needs.

**Disclaimer :- **As anyone can attest, the world of Harry Potter is a wonderful creation that belongs to J.K Rowling. And I am sure that I am not her. You get the idea, don't you?

**HpLcp**

**Chapter 2**

Potter manor,

1st November, 1981.

Potter family was a very old family, going back to twelfth century. Over years, every Potter had added to the name with small contributions of their own.

While the Potter family was not extremely rich when compared to other old families, they had been able to amass a small fortune for their name. With this fortune, they had been able to build a manor that passed from one generation to another.

The Potters, while old, were not considered a part of 'sacred twenty-eight'. Nor was there a hereditary seat waiting for them in the Wizengamot. But what the Potter had was a small amount of land for themselves. And that they were awarded lordship of those lands in the fourteenth century for there contribution against the dark wizard Yardley Platt.

But that was a long time ago, and lands were gone now. Yet the Lordship remained, as did its magic. Over time, secrets of magic were researched and that gave birth to Potter family magic. No one has ever been able to understand how sentient family magic was, nor could anyone understand how it worked.

The 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' were said to posses that knowledge. Those secrets never saw to light of day. Family after family chose to perish rather than part with their secrets. One such secret was the working of the lordship rings.

The only thing people knew for sure was that they were forged using ancient spells and that there were stipulations that must be achieved before the ring accepted them. Similar was true for the heir's ring. Not everyone was worthy of wielding the family magic.

The true ritual bound lords were not seen outside of the remaining 'scared twenty-eight' families for the past three centuries. And only a handful from Potter family were accepted by the Lordship rings as worthy of their magic. The last ritual bound Lord Potter was Henry Potter. And that was sixty years ago.

The only one to come close to achieving that feat was Lord Charlus, who was accepted by the heir ring but not the lord's ring. Though he was still known as Lord Potter like every head of the old families were considered Lords.

The Potter line had almost ended with Fleamont Potter who was unable sire children of his own. Fleamont Potter took the Potter coffers and quadrupled it by creating Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Though he had to sell the company when he retired as there was no one to inherit the vast fortune. But them magic blessed him and his wife Euphemia and their beloved boy James Potter was born.

Just as over two decades ago, Fleamont and Euphemia were blessed with a child, so was their boy who married a Lily Evans. It was unfortunate that they were unable to meet their grandson but they were happy for their child despite the war their generation was living through. At least they were alive and fighting for what they believed in.

If only that remained the case, Fleamont and Euphemia would have been delighted to see them grow as a family. Alas, the Potter family remained cursed as once again they were chased by death and destruction. This time in the form of a Dark Lord. And that was why the portrait of Hardwin Potter worried about his descendant's family.

Hardwin Potter had begged and begged his descendants to change their ways and train in the ways of Potters, Live the legacy of their forefathers and follow their footsteps. But they were always keen to follow others.

_The Lord Potter followed none._ That had been their motto and that was how they lived their life. With firm beliefs and the strength to face the world for them, they rose to greatness. With hard-work and perseverance they built their legacy and protected their secrets.

And like all good things, they too fell from grace. Despite his guidance and advise, only a handful managed to wield the family magic. And only a handful were chosen to be worthy of living in the Potter manor.

To this date, he doubted his descendant's decision to tie the wards of the Potter manor to family magic. While the idea of fidelius charm combined to the family magic was a stroke of genius, he would have liked it if more of his family were able to live in the manor.

A maddening scream brought him from his thoughts. "Mispy." He called in worry. Fortunately, the elf seemed to be nearby and she appeared to him with a pop sound. The elf was shaking as tears formed in her large eyes. "What happened to Harrow?" He asked about the elf that was bonded to James Potter.

"He's is suffering from a broken bond." The elf wringed her hands in worry as her ears flapped against her face loudly. Before he could speak further, the sounds of screaming cut-off abruptly. "Go check on Harrow and tell me what is going on." The abrupt way the bond was broken could only mean that James was dead.

He closed his eyes in pain. He had begged James to change his way at least to the point where the heir's ring would accept him. The wards of Potter manor could survive any dark lord. When James had denied to change his ways, he had approached Lily for help. For years he had tried, but the boy was set in his ways.

The reverence they had for some people was so much that they were willing to forget their origins. The traditions their forefathers followed religiously were forgotten in favour of new festivities. They, like many others, became followers of people with little to no respect for the old ways.

Mispy appeared to him and shook her head sadly as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "Can you at least feel young Harry?" He asked thinking about the ancient spell he had given Lily when she had come to him sick with worry about the well-being of her child.

The single mindedness with which the most recent Dark Lord targeted the Potter family these past few months had irked him the wrong way. Lily said there was prophecy about her child, but he believed that someone was trying to make it come true. Not every prophecy came true. Most remained unfulfilled.

He had not shared his views as he didn't want the Potters to be afraid of their own shadow. They didn't know whom they trust and the one they trusted seemed wrong to him. Their trust in the old headmaster had been a source of many fights between him and the Potters.

He had chosen to keep his council to himself when Lily came to him fifteen months ago asking for someway to protect her son, even at the cost of her own sacrifice. She needed someway to protect her son from the unforgivable killing curse. And he had helped her find that ritual.

"I's can sense young Master Harry." The little elf nodded through tears. "Good, go to Black's current residence and prepare everything necessary to take care of young Harry." Hardwin sighed. "From the way Lily described him, Sirius would be at Godric's Hollow by now. He should be back to his house in a few hours." Potters had always trusted Sirius and he was certain that they would have found a way to contact Sirius in the event that something happened to them.

He hoped that Lily didn't have to use the ancient ritual. He hoped that little Harry was safe under the fidelius charm waiting for his godfather to pick him up. He always knew that the chances of Lily leaving James to fight alone were slim. He prayed for Lily, hoping against hope that she had managed to get away with her life. And he prayed for James's soul.

**HpLcp**

Potter manor,

3rd November, 1981.

That evening Hardwin Potter paced in the limited space his portrait provided. There was a distinct lack of other magical portraits in the Potter manor because not many Potters saw any use in having their portraits made.

In a way he understood their reasoning, there were not many who took time out of their day to listen to portraits ramble on about days long gone. He himself rarely had any visitors after the first century or two.

It was fortunate that he met Lily, who had asked the elf about any old portraits that could help her protect her son, and learned about the recent happenings of the Potter family. The last time Potters lived in the ancestral manor was in 18th century.

He should have tried harder to stop the Lord from connecting the Lord's and heir's rings to the family fidelius. But those were trying times and he understood the need of secrecy when the next person you met was most likely a dark wizard.

Allowing only the ritual bound lord and heir the ability to share the secret was brilliant during those times. And the modified fidelius charm that didn't pass on the secret keepers at the death of the previous ones helped in protecting the location of Potter Manor as well.

He would never have imagined that the number of ritual bound Potter lords would be only handful after that. Nor would he have ever thought that the old ways would fade away so easily as they did.

Any generation of Potters that lived in the manor were special and very rare. Only ritual bound lords and heir were allowed access to the grounds of Potter manor. Over time, it became rare that any Potter visited the manor of they passed the tests for being the lord or even heir. None of them were willing to leave the houses they grew up in in favour of an ancient manor. Not even for their safety.

The last Potter Lord to visit the manor was Henry Potter and that was over six decades ago. He had managed to meet Lily Potter when he helped her add the Lily's pad to the family fidelius charm.

Normally, it would only be possible of the caster was Lord Potter with the lord's ring. But they had managed to modify the charm with little Harry as the secret keeper. He had very impressed with her brilliance.

Lily wanted to have a safe place for her son to go to if all of her plans failed and she couldn't survive the war. With no word from Mispy in the past two days, he was getting worried. Mispy would have returned if Lily was alive.

He could try calling the elf but it was not possible. He was just a portrait after all. And so, he waited for the little elf to return. Hoping for some good news.

**HpLcp**

Potter manor,

4th November, 1981.

Hardwin Potter was startled out of his enchanted sleep when Mispy appeared with loud pop. One look at her and he knew that the things had gone very wrong.

The little elf was wringing her hands and fat tears rolled down her eyes. "What happened?" He asked in worry. The elf continued to sniffle so he tried again.

"I's cannot feel young master Harry." She wailed loudly. "And I cannot feel Mistress Lily." She sniffed and he wondered if she would lose mind despite being bound to the family magic.

"What about Sirius? Did he say anything to you? Were you able to meet him?" He asked hurriedly as he knew the elf would not be able to answer anything if she started crying in despair.

"Master Sirius didn't return to his house." She cried shaking her head. "Mispy waited for him to return. Mispy was very worried but then I's could not feel master Harry anymore." _What happened to little Harry?_ He wondered.

There were very few ways to block the elf from sensing its future master. One of them was fidelius. And many others were so dark that he didn't want to think about them. Maybe Sirius did the smart thing and left Harry with the Longbottoms as was the second plan. But then what happened to Sirius.

"Mispy, go bring me the Daily Prophet of the past few days." He commanded loudly. "And return with haste. Harry is possibly safe where he is." He needed the elf sane if he wanted to find about the fate of Sirius Black and Harry.

This time it didn't take long for the house elf to return. If the portrait had any blood in his veins, it would have frozen the moment he read the headlines on one of the newspapers.

**'Potter's betrayer' Sirius Black sentenced to a life time of Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles.**

He was worried further when he read about Dumbledore claiming Harry Potter as the wizarding world's saviour. Dumbledore also claimed that Harry Potter 'the boy-who-lived' was safe and hidden away to protect him from death eaters.

Hardwin Potter didn't know what game the old fool was playing by declaring to the world that Harry Potter was somehow responsible for the destruction of the dark lord. Nor did he like the last Potter being painted as a target for the dark lord's followers like that.

He just hoped that Harry was safe with the Longbottom's while they stayed under the fidelius charm.

**HpLcp**

Potter manor,

27th March, 1985.

The headlines of Daily Prophet that fateful day worried the old portrait more. But he was also relieved when he didn't read anything about Harry Potter.

**Well-respected Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom tortured into insanity by the Lestrange family and Crouch Junior. **

The article went onto describe how judgement was passed on the perpetrators of the most heinous crimes. The only survivor of the attack was their young son Neville Longbottom survived.

Hardwin Potter closed his eyes and tried to think of possible names Harry would go to if the primary and secondary families were unable to take him in as the Will of Potters mentioned.

He knew that the Longbottoms would have felt safe enough to come out of hiding after reading about the fall of Voldemort and the trials of many death eaters. And if the came out of hiding than Harry was not left with them as he had originally assumed.

They had gone in to hiding around the same time as the Potters. The prophecy that worried the Potters could be applied to the Longbottoms as well. While he didn't believe in prophecies, the dark lord seemed to believe it. Though he often wondered how he the dark lord learned about it.

Someone must have heard the prophecy because a seer never remembered any prophecy they made. Somehow a death eater heard a prophecy or some one deliberately leaked it in the hopes that the dark lord would go after the Potters. He just wasn't sure who did that. Nor was there anything he could do about it as long as he couldn't find Harry.

Maybe they were trying to gain custody of young Harry after they learned about Sirius' imprisonment. He couldn't know and that is what worried him the most. Especially since Mispy was unable to sense Harry.

The recent elevation of house Potter from noble to 'noble and ancient' status was worrying him as well. He knew and understood that the people of wizarding Britain held little Harry in high regards but elevation of a house before its time was too much.

_Who was going to ensure his education? Who was going to teach him the ways of Potters?_ The ridiculous boy-who-lived stories were sure to make people think of Harry as some kind of Messiah. At least the children. And if little Harry was not trained then he would not be able to handle the pressure.

He had tried sending Mispy to every contact that Lily had let him know about in the hopes that they could point him to Harry's location. But it was all in vain. No one knew about Harry and no one wanted to push matters when Dumbledore himself was appointed as the magical guardian of the boy.

The suppression of the Potter Will sent all kinds of alarms in his mind. What was Dumbledore trying by suppressing the Will and making himself the boy's magical guardian? Why was nothing being done about the unlawful use of Harry's name in all these ridiculous books. Was Dumbledore trying to make Harry as the poster boy of Light faction and muggle-born wizards and witches?

Potters were primarily a grey family and only recently had they openly started supporting the light. That was only because of James' desire to follow the great Albus Dumbledore. It was good thing that James was not the Potter lord or had any significant political power. He was sure to give all of the power to Dumbledore if asked.

That was why the heirs were educated in the ways of their family since a very young age. The traditions and duties were often forgotten and they were prone to get manipulated by those with better knowledge and use the family's power to further others political agendas.

The Potters were traditionally neutral. They have never should complete support to either sides. They were considered purebloods by many and they had followed centuries of traditions and festivals, rituals and magics.

They had taken a stand against going to war with muggles while supporting the International Statue of Wizarding secrecy. They had publicly spoken against the minister who wanted to kill goblins. The Potters always stood for what they believed in, it would not do for the Potters to suddenly be sheep and follow fools.

He needed to find the Potter heir and soon. Till then, he would follow the plan he helped Lily make and make preparations for when the time came.

**HpLcp**

Potter manor,

4th June, 1992.

Hardwin Potter's portrait jumped in sudden fright when Mispy popped into the room and started jumping around excitedly. "I's can feel master Harry again. I's can feel master Harry again. I's can feel master Harry again." The little elf cheered excitedly and a smile formed on Hardwin's face as he thought about little Harry.

"Calm down, elf." He laughed loudly when Mispy did elf's equivalent of blush and looked down at her feet. "Tell me about little Harry." Hardwin chuckled when Mispy started talking at a fast pace.

"Slow down and start over." He smiled patiently. "I's can feel Young Master again." Mispy was positively radiating with joy. "Master Harry is alive although he doesn't seem to be in a very good place." She nodded her excitedly. "Master Harry's goes to Hoggywarts."

"Good." He nodded. "I want you to go and keep an eye on him. Make sure to follow him to his residence but do not, I repeat, do not make contact with him until I tell you to." He was worried that whatever enchantments had kept Harry hidden from the house elf would be strengthened by the caster of they knew about Mispy following Harry.

He frowned when he saw Mispy look down at her feet in sadness. "Don't worry, Mispy. Harry will be with us as soon I get to know more about his current residence and the people he lives with." He smiled seeing the way the elf's face lit up in joy.

"Remember to take the device to locate the ward stones. Oh, and take the memory crystal with you as well. I want to see little Harry too. He should be grown up tall and strong by now." He chuckled as he remembered seeing the little baby for the first time. He would be wiping tears of joy if he was capable of that function.

**HpLcp**

Potter manor,

25th July, 1992.

Hardwin Potter snarled and tried to think of all the ways he could make those muggles who dared to treat his little Harry in that abominable manner as he finished viewing the memory.

"They dare…" He sputtered, being too enraged to speak properly. "They dare treat a child in this despicable manner." He roared. "I swear to Merlin I would rip them limb by limb if I ever get the opportunity to." He snarled looking at the cowering elf.

"Mispy." He said sharply. "Go and prepare Lily's pad. There is no way the Potter heir is going to live those despicable muggles." He sneered thinking of all the ways he could employ to destroy those Dursley's.

"Well." He asked sharply when he saw that Mispy had yet to move from her place. "I's think master Hardwin should see the wards first." The elf said after taking some deep breaths. "Master is too angry to think properly." He frowned at the rare show of defiance from the elf.

"Well, then show me." He was still too enraged to think correctly. And for a portrait, that was saying something. But then again, the portraits did simulate the thought process and behaviour of the person. He never could think properly when he was enraged.

The elf rummaged for the correct crystal and within moments he was able to see the ward-stone clearly. "Sweet Morgana." He mumbled and the painting turned several shades pale, if that was even possible.

"Go. Leave me alone for time." He mumbled. "But prepare Lily's pad for Harry's arrival. And leave the crystal working for now. I will try and have a way to counter the monitoring charms of the blood-wards." He could not think why anyone would cast something as horrible as blood-wards on a muggle house.

"Wait." He said before Mispy could pop away to keep an eye on her charge. "I want you check the house and young Harry for any kind of charms. Don't remove them, I want you to make a list of those and bring them back to me. There might be some of those we can use to our benefit."

He muttered several profanities about irresponsible wizards who had nothing better than to endanger muggles in order to further their own agenda. "Remember to disguise yourself properly and make sure to do nothing that could alert the magical sensors that are sure to be on that house."

"Oh, and I want you to mix calming draughts in everything they eat in that house. Make sure to give a purging-potion to Harry first. Who know what he has been eating for the past year without making sure that they were safe?" He wondered if anyone was callous enough to potion a child in Hogwarts but then again, he could never be sure.

**HpLcp**

Potter manor,

29th July, 1992.

"There." He pointed. "Do that stroke properly. Do it exactly the same as described in the book." He muttered thinking about all the tracking spells, anti-scrying spells, health monitoring charms and mail blocking charms the elf had to remove from Harry while adding a mail-redirection charm with the location of the enchanted letter box linked to the Lily's pad.

The caster of those charms had gone out of his way to ensure that Harry couldn't be contacted through letters and that he was aware of the abysmal conditions Harry lived in. The were so many tracking charms on his things that left him baffled at what the caster was trying to achieve there.

Many of them were so strong that removing them left the little elf exhausted. And Mispy was a particularly strong elf; given the fact that she was bonded through the Potter's family magic. "Very good." He praised the proud house-elf.

"Now, you remember to place them exactly as I directed and make sure they cannot be seen by the muggles." He had managed to device a way to fool the blood-wards. Being as ancient as he was had a few perks as well.

Someone very strong had managed to cast the blood-wards on a muggle house. He didn't want to think about the effects they had on the residents but he was duty bound to investigate. It was his nature to help others when in their time of need.

"Remember to cast the charms to repel the house elf you sensed on the property." He was thankful that Mispy was not as crazy as the other house elf. House elfs while childish were not so crazy as the one that lurked around Harry's house. "Yes, Master Hardwin." The little elf answered dutifully as she packed the ward-stones.

"Good. Now, once that is done, I want you to keep an eye on the house elf who keeps stealing Harry's letter. Make sure that Harry sees the elf in some way, use compulsion charms if you must. Harry should be perfectly capable of dealing with the situation by himself." The elf nodded and he continued with his orders.

"I want to appear before as soon as he utters anything about family elf or anything remotely related to potter's house-elf. Not a moment before that, do you understand?" The little elf nodded excitedly at the prospect of being near young Harry again.

"Good. When you appear to him, I want you to act like you are visiting him for the first time." He explained further when the elf looked confused. "He wouldn't be happy if he knew that we were spying on him. You don't want little Harry to be mad at you, do you?" The elf shook her head frantically and squeaked out hurried denials.

"Besides, we don't want him to know that we him to know that we were poisoning their food with potions; even if they were just calming potions, do we?" He asked rhetorically.

"Now, I want you to then take him and all his things to Lily pad where you will be giving him a potion to help with the nausea of apparition travel. You will mix a mild sleeping draught in that potion." He sighed thinking of all the deception he had to ask the elf to commit.

"And then you will treat him for all the scars he has as well as give him regular doses of nutrition potion and prepare the ritual for removing the soul leech that he is stuck with." He muttered.

"Yes, I know that we are not certain about the soul leech yet but that is why we have the instruments in working order in his room." He spoke when the elf looked ready to protest. "They will be able to confirm the suspicions Lily had."

The dark lord had somehow managed to survive being blasted apart at least once from what he could recall Lily telling him. Well, not being blasted apart but losing enough body parts as well as blood that no one could recover from.

That worried him. There was a reason Voldemort generated so much fear that people couldn't even speak his name without flinching. That was why he wanted to deal with the soul leech as soon as possible. He wanted no part of the foul dark lord near his little Harry.

"Then, while you prepare for the ritual, I want you to dose Lily's sister with weak truth serum and ask a few questions." He was not certain whether that would work or not. But with right questions, he hoped to at least find out why Petunia treated her nephew as horribly as she did.

He knew that the sisters hated each other for a long time but he was also aware that they were trying to mend their relationship. Especially after the death of their parents. With a sigh he hoped what he found was not as horrible as he suspected.

**HpLcp**

**A/N :-** How's this for something a bit different? I have always found it a bit suspect that Dumbledore would announce it to the world that Harry Potter was the reason for Voldemort's fall. Especially with all the death eater who had managed to escape prison with the excuse of Imperious curse. It was almost like he wanted Harry to be targeted. *shrugs*

He could have just not announced to the world about Harry's involvement and just said that the dark lord perished after the attack on Potters. But those are just my thoughts. You can share what you think about that action.


	3. Chapter 3

The timeline error in last chapter is edited, it was a mistake on my part. For that you have my apologies.

That said, I read a few reviews saying that the Longbottoms were attacked a few weeks after the attack on Potters and not the few years after the event as I have mentioned (not cannon). I would like to say that I selected that time interval because I was unable to find the exact date for that event. The most I could find were vague quotes from a few characters. After spending some time trying to find the exact date, I moved to fanon timeline of events and I mostly agreed with what I found there. Because of the lack of canon material, I chose that date and it was completely intentional on my part.

All your reviews are appreciated and they help a lot in writing the story. Who would have thought writing Harry Potter required hours and hours of research?

**A/N-** Magic is a very beautiful thing. It is as dangerous as it is beautiful. Vernon and Petunia hated magic because they feared it. What happened to make them fear magic as much as they did? Dumbledore always wanted to place young Harry with them. Hagrid, in the very first chapter of the very first book, tells him that Sirius Black gave him the flying motorbike so he could reach Dumbledore without much trouble. Why wasn't Harry placed with Sirius or even the Longbottoms, if they were his godparents? A dilemma that I mulled over while writing this chapter. Any theories?

Disclaimer :- The lines between canon and fanon are blurred.

**Chapter 3**

Privet drive No. 4,

Little Whinging, Surrey.

August 7th, 1992.

Petunia Dursley was a woman who tried to live her life as normally as possible. The death of her sister; freak as she called them and their kind, affected her just as much as her parent's death did. Lily was the last of her blood after all. And over time, they tried to make amends despite the mutual hatred they had for each other.

At one point, she might have been perfectly happy to take care of her nephew. At one point, she might have been glad to raise him as her own. At one point, she might have been willing to go so far as to accept magic for the sake of her nephew. Not anymore.

Not after what happened. Not after what she lost. Every time she looked at her nephew, she was reminded of her loss. Every time she saw her nephew, she thought of the dream that would always remain a dream.

Her nephew didn't just remind her of the loss of her sister, he reminded her of something worse. Magic, she decided, was as horrible as it was beautiful. But she couldn't bring herself to enjoy the beauty of magic. Not after everything that had happened. Not after everything she lost to it.

She was not jealous of her sister for her gift of magic as people often believed when they learned about their mutual hatred. She hated the world that took away her sister. She hated the world that she suspected took away her parents before their time. And she hated the world that took away her hopes and dreams.

Sighing, she sat in their living room while thinking about her missing nephew. She wondered if he was safe or if he was with their kind. She wondered if he was happy when he was back among his kind. But then the heart-wrenching pain returned as she was reminded of her loss and then she could not bring herself to care anymore.

Oh, she remembered the last letter she received from their kind that warned her of the danger posed to her nephew from a mad man. There was a reason why she kept her nephew around, even after losing so much to their kind.

But now, now she couldn't bring herself to worry about her nephew. He was most likely safe with his kind. Good thing too, she didn't want to spend another summer worrying about her husband throwing temper tantrums every time he saw Harry.

A few sips of her tea and she was sure that something was wrong. Her mind clouded and she couldn't feel her body. She opened her mouth to scream for her husband and son; even though they were not present in the house, but no words came out.

A strange looking creature popped into the room. House-elf, her sister called them. A parchment and quill floated beside the creature. She thought that she was supposed to know the elf but then her mind clouded and she forgot what she was thinking.

"Are you Petunia Dursley?" The elf asked her in a small squeaky voice.

"Yes." Her mouth moved involuntarily even when she wanted to scream abuse and tell the creature to leave her and her family alone.

"Are you Lily Potter's sister?" The elf asked while looking at the parchment in her little hands.

"Yes." She answered again while fearing what the little creature wanted with her.

"Is Harry Potter your nephew?" _So, that's what this is __about?_ She thought in scorn. Somehow everything came back to her nephew.

"Yes." She wondered who sent the little creature.

"Why do you hate your nephew?" The hostile way it was said amused her.

"I do not hate my nephew." The words left her even as she tried to stop them. She hated her nephew. There was nothing she hated more in the whole wide world. But then she wondered how true it was.

The elf looked up from her parchment, just as confused as her. The little elf muttered something under her breath. "Then why do you treat him horribly?" She asked with narrowed eyes.

"I do not know." _That's what he deserves. You freaks are nothing better than dirt._ She shouted in her head but the words didn't come out. _What is happening here? _This was too real to be some kind of dream.

The elf popped away after glaring at her for some moments and she woke up in her bed. _That was a very weird dream._ She thought to herself while calling for her son to go get some grocery.

**HpLcp**

Grunnings,

August 8th, 1992.

Vernon Dursley heaved a sigh as he sat back in his chair. That was a taxing day for him. Being a sales-executive was a difficult job, but it was something he enjoyed.

Making deals while making both his superiors and clients happy was his art. It was something he was good at and something he enjoyed.

Staring at the paperwork in front of him, he sighed. The only thing in his job that bored him was the paperwork. But it was manageable so he decided to suck it up and get on with it.

He wondered if he would be able to save enough money to take his family on a long summer vacation. His freak nephew would have to placed with their neighbours for the time being. He would be glad just to have the boy out of his side.

They were good, honest people who didn't need any freakish behaviour around them. That freakishness had already cost them too much. He didn't want to lose more to it. At least the boy was out of his sight for now.

Ordinarily, he would not even spend a second thinking about his nephew and everything he represented. But these were not ordinary times, were they? Just a few days ago, Mrs Figg was asking him about the boy. They often left the boy with her when they wanted to go out and have fun as a family.

And he didn't know how to answer the lady who used to babysit his nephew. So, he told her the same thing he did to those freaks who turned up at his house asking about his nephew doing magic. That his nephew was out on a summer camp. He then proceeded to tear strips out of those freaks for disturbing the lives of normal people like them.

He was angry enough knowing that his nephew had disappeared without even the curtsey of informing them, the questions from his neighbours about the little boy were just angering him.

As if the boy was able to use his freakishness after he took his stick away. But when he checked the cupboard for the stick, he was astonished to find that all of those were vanished. Along with everything else that belonged to his nephew.

_Good riddance._ He thought after spending some time worrying about the freakish nature of the events. At least he didn't have the constant reminder of those freaks and the things he lost to them whenever he saw his nephew.

Sighing, he signed another report and took a sip of his tea. His mind clouded as he thought about the latest toy his son was asking about.

"Are you Vernon Dursley?" A very high-pitched voice asked from somewhere he could not see. His body didn't respond when he tried to turn towards the source.

"Yes." His mouth moved and he was scared when he couldn't scream for help.

"Are you Petunia Dursley's husband?" The voice asked again.

"Yes." He tried frowning but his body didn't respond.

"Why do you hate your nephew?" _So, he is what this was about._ He thought viscously.

"Because he is not normal." As if that answered everything. And for Vernon Dursley, it answered everything.

"Why do you think he is not normal?" The high-pitched voice sounded angry and he smiled. At least he tried smiling, his body didn't respond.

"Because he uses magic." Even under the whatever freakiness he was, he couldn't keep the disdain out of his voice when he thought about magic.

"Why did you take him in then?" The voice asked after a pause.

"I didn't want to take the little boy in. After reading the letter that was in his basket, my wife insisted." How he wished he had pushed further to change his wife's decision that fateful night.

"Why did your wife insist on taking the boy under your roof?"

"I do not know." He answered in the same monotonous voice while wondering about it.

There was pause and he heard the sound of papers shuffling. "Why do you hate magic?" The squeaky voice asked again.

And he remembered. He remembered all the unpleasant experiences that made him hate magic. The humiliation he felt when someone turned his hair orange and made him tap-dance while singing ridiculous songs at his sister-in-law's engagement party.

He remembered discovering the pig's tail he had when he returned from that party. He remembered the embarrassment as well as the trauma he had to suffer. He remembered the money he had to spend to get the tail removed surgically. He remembered how he had to make-do with what little money he was left with after that event.

It even affected his first choice of engagement ring for his wife. He remembered the snipes and insults they faced when the attended that engagement and later the wedding of the Potters.

He remembered his wife pleading her sister to leave the magical world behind after everything that happened to them. He remembered his wife pleading her sister to leave the country after she heard about the mad man trying to kill them. He remembered how it all fell on deaf years.

He remembered being worried sick about the fate of his nephew when he heard about the death of the boy's parents. Whispered words on the streets talking about the fate of the Potter couple. Singing praises of the little boy who did the unimaginable. About the disappearance of 'You-know-who'.

He remembered asking his wife about the boy they had only heard about. And he remembered his wife not caring about it. They had tried mending their relationship but after the humiliation and insults, enough was enough. He dared not mention the Potters around his wife. Not that he felt inclined to do that after his own experience with magic.

He remembered worrying about the costs and difficulties of raising another boy when they found Harry on their doorstep without any documentation. He remembered how his wife wanted another child of her own.

A girl this time. He remembered his wife accepting to raise her nephew at least grudgingly and deciding to try for another child in a few years when they were financially stable.

And he remembered how traumatic it was for them to know that somehow his wife lost her ability to give birth a few years later. His wife broke down that day and it was all he could to keep her sane and responsive. Even the learned experts were left scratching their heads.

Combined that with finding their child flying upside down in his room while their nephew laughed happily and clapped his hands in joy, they knew who was to blame for their misfortune.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back and made them what they were and how they treated their nephew. And he said it all. He told about all the unpleasant experiences he had with magic even as tears fell down.

"Mr Dursley." He woke with a start and stared at his secretary. "Good. You are awake. The boss wants to talk to you about the recent deal you failed in making. The clients are willing to give you another chance. Don't spoil it." His secretary frowned at him when he mumbled a reply while shaking the cobwebs of his nap. He wondered why he couldn't remember how he fell asleep.

"Stop day-dreaming, Mr Dursley." He heard his secretary snap from near his office's door. "The boss is not going to wait for you the whole day."

"Coming, coming." He muttered while finding the relevant files. With the freak not around to spoil things for him, he was sure to make the deal this time around.

**HpLcp**

Lily's pad,

Diagon Alley.

August 11th, 1992.

Harry Potter woke up with a groan. For the first time in months, he was able to sleep without having nightmares about the death of Quirrell.

The blurry world focused as soon as he was able to find his glasses and wear them. After a satisfying stretch, he looked around the bedroom his mother had prepared for him. The place where his mother lived before marrying his father.

The room was decorated with all kinds of magical instruments. He would have never thought his mother would choose emerald green for the room. But then again, it matched both his mother's and his eyes perfectly. And it calmed him.

"Mispy." He called for the house-elf as he tried finding the hand-me-downs from his cousin to wear.

"Yes, Master Harry." The little elf popped into view while he rummaged his trunks.

"Where are my clothes? The ones you brought with my stuff." He asked as he found only new clothes in his trunk. Most of them were robes.

"Mistress Dorea asked me to burn those clothes, Young Master Harry." The little elf wrung her hands in worry when she saw him frown. "She said such clothes are not befitting the station of the Potter heir."

"Who is Mistress Dorea?" He asked after a moment as he decided on what to wear. He was certain he was not going to miss his cousin's old clothes. He also wondered who paid for his clothes.

"Mistress Dorea is your Great grandmother." The elf said enthusiastically after she was certain that Harry was not unhappy with her.

"Great grandmother." Harry mused wondering if she was talking about magical portraits or ghosts. "Is she a portrait?" He decided to ask.

"Oh, yes. I's had to go to the Black manor to retrieve Mistress Dorea's portrait. All the other portraits were destroyed during the first war." Mispy answered with a smile, her ears flapping. "Mistress Dorea is waiting for you to get ready. She says she wants to begin your etiquette classes as soon as you's are ready."

Harry nodded in return as she elaborated further. "Mistress Dorea also wants to know more about you. She says you have to answer many letters and get prepared to visit your parent's grave tomorrow. There is someone she wants to meet you there."

Harry's breath hitched when he heard about his parent's grave. No one told him where his parents were buried. Or where they lived. It was always 'Your parents were great people, Harry.' Or 'You look just like your father but your eyes, there are all Lily's.'

He didn't even know what kind of people they were. People said his parents were good people. But he was uncertain if those people even knew his parents. No one had ever claimed to be good friends with his parents yet. At least he didn't remember anyone proclaiming them.

People like Hagrid said they were good but he knew that Hagrid was simple minded enough to not see the bad in them. The guy claimed Snape was good all because he trusted Dumbledore's word. So, yes, Harry had his reservations about things that came out of Hagrid's mouth.

It was not an offence to the big fellow but no one could deny that the man trusted too easily. And he had shown himself to be remarkably cruel when he gave his cousin a pig's tail using magic. Dudley, no matter how cruel to him, was a boy of eleven. Intentional or not.

Harry didn't think he deserved the trauma of that. Yes, he thought the whole thing funny at that time but that was before he knew that Dudley had to undergo an operation to surgically remove the tail. And that was not talking about the giant man's idea of cute things. Dragons and giant three headed dogs came to mind.

Harry tried to push the thoughts of the gentle giant to the back of his mind as he finished his morning rituals. He knew that his etiquette classes were going to be painfully embarrassing as soon as he saw the portrait of a stern looking blonde.

Her first remark as soon as she noticed him were "Finally got the time to visit, little Harry?" The accompanying sneer told him that she was not impressed.

Thus, began his magical education accompanied by a lot of insults, snipes at his manners and guilt-trips whenever the portrait pointed out the many mistakes, he made throughout his first year at Hogwarts. A lot of which were potentially dangerous and life threatening to others as well.

"Seriously, how were you to going to stop an experienced Professor from stealing the stone? With Wingardium Leviosa?" Dorea huffed while staring at the red-faced Harry. Even with all that, he was happy that he finally got to learn about his parents and his magical heritage.

**HpLcp**

Godric's Hollow,

West Country, England.

August 13th, 1992.

Eighty-seven-year old retired-Unspeakable Cassiopeia Black appeared on the edge of Godric's Hollow with a crack. Godric's Hollow was a small community that was inhabited by a number of notable wizarding families.

_The old place with many memories._ She thought with a grim smile as she remembered all the historical events that happened there. The most recent being the attack on the Potter family and the destruction of 'You-know-Who'.

Cassiopeia Black, like many Blacks before her, had faked her death a few months ago with the desire to live her remaining days in peace and quiet. And she was successful at making it look like a natural event too.

But she forgot one thing- House elves. Somehow the portrait of her youngest sister Dorea Potter was able to ask the Black family elf to send a message to her.

Her sister's family needed help and here she was, back in Britain. Well, she had family obligations too. And whether she liked it or not, she came. It was not often when a portrait of your dead family member asked for help.

She was able to learn much in the conversation with her sister's portrait. And what she learned was enough for her to agree with her sister's theory. There was a conspiracy involved.

One that spelled the end of line Potter and Black. And she was going to do her best to raise hell on the parties involved. It was a good thing that she had her little black book. She was certain that she would need help but there was time. She had to contact the boy around whom it all revolved. Namely one Harry Potter.

Reaching the centre of the town while under a strong notice-me-not charm, she stopped as soon as she saw him. A thin little boy dressed in black robes staring at a statue at the centre of the village's square.

The statue depicted a young couple playing happily with their infant child. The statue was erected in the memory of James and Lily Potter, a dedication to Harry Potter.

From a distance, it appeared as an obelisk, carved with the names of people who died in the war. But to a witch or wizard it was a statue of a family. James, Lily and an infant Harry who looked content in his mother's arms. And although the statue was made of stone, the boy staring at it appeared to be made of glass.

Her heart broke when she saw silent tears streaming down the boy's face as he touched the faces of his parents; cold and hard as they were. She wanted to go on and console him but she understood that it was something he had to do by himself.

This was the first time he was visiting his parents grave and she didn't want to intrude on a private moment. It was not something she could bring herself to do. The child needed the closure. He needed to spend time alone with his parents. To talk to them freely.

She cursed whoever it was that took the boy's guardianship. They couldn't even bring themselves to bring the boy to the final resting place of his parents. Albus Dumbledore, she thought, was a very inconsiderate man.

She watched from distance as the boy walked towards the graveyard in a daze. Adding a disillusionment and silencing charm to herself, she followed him. Thinking that the boy would not want to be disturbed, she casted a notice-me-not charm on him too.

She watched for a distance as the boy searched for his parent's grave. When he found it, she heard him murmur "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." In the silent graveyard, she watched the boy place some lilies on their grave and talk to them.

She maintained her distance knowing that he would need the privacy. And she couldn't bring herself to intrude on such an intimate moment of the boy's life. She knew he would want to talk about himself, his childhood, his relatives, his friends, Hogwarts, the people he met, his likes, his dislikes, his hopes, his dreams. They were things she had no business knowing.

And yet she stayed and watched from a distance as the boy sat in front of the graves and talked for hours. She would just have to introduce herself some other time now. The boy looked drained. And she should have expected him to be.

She watched as the emotionally exhausted boy called for his elf and popped away from sight. With a sigh, she turned and returned to her apartment. She would have to introduce herself some other day.

**HpLcp**

Godric's Hollow,

West Country, England.

August 20th, 1992.

Cassiopeia Black watched from distance as Harry once again sat in front of his parent's grave and talked. She had watched the boy sit in front of his parent's grave and talk to them for hours after the boy's first visit.

She wanted to join the boy and introduce herself but she hesitated when she saw the look of profound sadness on his face. The look of longing on his face every time he saw the statue of his parent's broke her heart.

She decided to leave the consoling to her sister's portrait. She, unfortunately, was not the right person to do it. Having little experience with children, she knew that one wrong word would be disastrous.

It took some time but she was certain that she could introduce herself to the child now. Her sister said that the boy required adult's guidance. It was something he lacked sorely. Portraits and elves could only provide so much.

With a sigh, she stepped towards the boy after removing the charms she had on herself. "They gave their lives so that others might live." She murmured as she watched the boy jump with a start. Harry smiled sadly, knowing what she meant.

With a flick of her wand, she conjured a wreath of roses and placed it on the graves. The snowy white tombstone read the birth and death date of the Potters. The graveyard was said to be 'magnificently haunted'.

"Greetings, young Harry." She smiled when the boy looked at her and extended her hand. Harry, quick on uptake, took her hand flipping it over and gently kissed her knuckles while staring into her eyes.

"Madame Cassiopeia Black, I presume." Harry smiled while taking a step back. "Lady Dorea said you would meet me here." His black robes moved gently with the wind.

"I am sure she did. Would you like to take a walk with this old lady?" She smiled lightly and extended her hand. "Have you visited the Potter's cottage yet?" She knew he had not.

"No." Harry answered while staring at his feet. "I, uh…" He stumbled at the words, not knowing how to answer. Visiting his parent's grave was overwhelming enough, he didn't think if he could handle a visit to the place they were murdered.

Cassiopeia smiled sadly and decided to leave it for some other time. "Maybe some other time, young Harry. You can visit the Potter's cottage when you are ready. Maybe with a close friend of yours?" She smiled when Harry nodded and murmured his consent.

"Dorea says that you have some fascinating stories to tell." She started slowly while keeping an eye on the boy. His immediate tensing told her that he knew what she was talking about. "Easy there, young man. I am not going to force you to talk about it."

"I just want you to know that I am here to help you in any way I can. I have many contacts in the ministry that could help you, but they won't be able to do so if they don't know about it." She saw him frown in thought and smiled. At least he knew not to trust someone immediately.

"But we can do that at a later date. I am sure Dorea gave you some instructions to follow. Rituals and rings to prepare for your protection. What do you say we get that done first?" When the boy gave his consent, she continued. "Then we can talk about this dark lord of yours and how to deal with him. Those who do not speak would be able to help us. Most likely without putting you in unnecessary danger."

"What do you mean 'those who do not speak'?" The boy asked in confusion. So, his education was not that far ahead yet. Interesting. Dumbledore was keeping the boy very ignorant. Then again, a twelve-year old had no business knowing about Unspeakables.

"I am talking about Unspeakables, young Harry." She glanced around as she heard the sounds of people enjoying their day and caste a notice-me-not charm on herself and her charge.

"They work for the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. Well, I can't share much about them and what they do but I can confirm that they would be able to help you."

"Really? Headmaster Dumbledore should be able to help you more with regards to that. He didn't seem too shocked when I said it was Voldemort who was trying to steal the stone." If Harry expected her to flinch upon hearing the dark lord's name, he was sorely disappointed.

"Don't you think that if Dumbledore wanted people to know that the dark lord was trying to return, he would have already done so?" She mused, knowing that Dumbledore would never part with his secrets. "I have yet to hear anything about the debacle at the end of your first year from my contacts in ministry, Harry."

"And trust me, any news regarding the possible return of the dark lord would spread like wildfire. Besides, you should not speak that name so freely." She cautioned.

"Why should I not say his name? Dumbledore says that fear of the name spreads fear of the man." Harry asked while looking around at the various cottages around them.

"There is a reason why people fear speaking his name." Cassiopeia sighed thinking of various ways to strangle Dumbledore for giving wrong advice to a young boy. "There was a taboo placed on that name, Harry."

She continued speaking as she knew that Harry wouldn't know about everything. "Every time someone spoke his name, Voldemort and his death-eaters would be alerted of their location. You can imagine what their fate was when the apparated there." Glancing at Harry's pale face, she knew he understood.

"But, then, why would Dumbledore insist on calling him by his name?" Harry asked in despair. _Why would he want to put me in danger like that?_ Especially since he that neither Voldemort nor his death eaters were gone for good.

"Who knows why Dumbledore do half the things he does?" She wanted to shrug but it was not something that was befitting a lady. "Maybe he thought that the curse was removed, though I have my reservations regarding that. You should be cautious about what you choose to believe, Harry. Especially when it comes from Dumbledore."

Knowing he would want to know the reasons behind that, she elaborated. "Dumbledore keeps many secrets, Harry. You will see that not many people trust Dumbledore, not only from dark families but neutral and light families too."

"He is a good man, true. But he is also a politician who has his own agendas. House Dumbledore is a small family, not noble, quite young too… You can imagine how Albus would want his family name to be remembered. Did you know that his father was sent to prison for killing muggles?" She asked, knowing that she had created enough doubt in young Harry's mind to be cautious of the old man.

"Dorea says he gave you your father's cloak last Christmas. Did you ask why he had the possession of your heirloom for so long?" She sighed when the boy shook his head in negative. "If your parents had that cloak with them, don't you think they would have had a better chance at escaping the dark lord?"

"But, but, how was Dumbledore supposed to know the Voldemort would come for my family?" Harry sputtered in disbelief.

"Why wouldn't he? He was the one who helped hide your parents after all." She sighed. "Dorea must have told you why your parents went into hiding. If she didn't, you should ask her when you get the time. You have apparated with your elf, haven't you? Good this would be easy if you already know how it feels."

She grabbed his hand tightly when they reached the apparition point. "I have made preparations for your first magical ritual. You will have to ask your elf to bring your rings. Blood magic is often dangerous so remember to follow my instructions precisely."

"Your rings are very important. You will not share anything about them with anyone. Not even your friends. Nor will you share anything about the ritual, I am lucky enough to witness a Potter family ritual."

"You must understand the importance of family secrets, young Harry. There are many people who would sell their daughters to get their hands on one of those secrets." When she was certain that Harry understood, she turned and they disappeared with a crack.

**HpLcp**

Greengrass Manor,

August 27th, 1992.

Daphne Greengrass, heir to the Greengrass family, smiled while looking at her reflection. Her long raven-hair were very beautiful, something she was very proud of. Her blue eyes matched perfectly with her new muggle dress. She twirled around and admired herself in front of the magical mirror that sang praises of her beauty.

At almost thirteen, Daphne was considered pretty by many and she was proud of her looks. Happily, she took her new charms book and decided to read ahead. She was very pretty, true, but what she admired about herself was her intelligence.

Looks were great but what an heir to the 'sacred twenty-eight' required was intelligence and wits. Hers was a very old family. While they didn't believe in pureblood supremacy, they understood the importance of traditions. Her family also understood the importance family magics and their secrets, rituals and their importance.

A few days ago, she successfully performed a ritual in respect of magic and all it gave them. Her father was very proud at the initiative she took in learning the old ways.

There were many pure-blood supremacists who would talk how they were better just because they had wizards and witches in their family for many generations.

Those people would never realize that true supremacy was knowledge of magic and rituals. They would never know that true supremacy lied in getting accepted by the family magics.

They would never know that true power was wielding family magics. The wizarding world lost more knowledge than it gained.

She, finally, was able to feel her family magic. The rush of power was intoxicating. So was the feeling of warmth that spread in her body every time the magic hummed.

This was what the dark lords and light lords desired. This power was what they could never have. Family magic was a blessing and not everyone was worthy.

A call from her mother startled her from her studies. Sighing, she got up and went to living room where her parents waited for her. She waited dutifully for the stairs to align themselves to the path she wanted to use. Dutifully, she knocked on the door and waited for her parents to grant her entry.

"Daughter." Her mother smiled when she dipped in a low curtsey, her eyes lowered and her head titled. Looking around, she saw her father sitting in one of the chairs while sipping fire-whisky. His face paler than normal. Her mother looked tense as well.

"Sit, daughter." Her mother asked gently while she herself took a seat beside her father. Her mother's hands were shaking, she noted carefully. _Something must have happened for her mother to be scared._ Sophia Greengrass, her mother, was one of the Unspeakables. There was not much that scared her.

"Daphne, you are in Harry Potter's year, are you not?" Her mother started slowly. She wanted to groan at the mention of that disappointment but her upbringing stopped her.

She was getting irritated at the constant stream of questions for her younger sister Astoria. Her sister was on cloud nine ever since she got a reply from the famous 'boy-who-lived'.

She nodded carefully, wondering what her mother wanted to know about the famous boy. "What can you tell me about him?" Her mother asked.

She would have chosen her words carefully if she wasn't hurt by the lose of house cup that year. She like many of her classmates gave her best to collect those points and she was very disappointed when Gryffindor won the house cup because Dumbledore favoured the golden boy.

"Harry Potter is nothing more than a disappointment to his lineage and magical heritage." She elaborated when her mother raised an amused eyebrow. "It is true. That boy dresses in rags while committing faux-pas after faux-pas. He is friends with those blood traitors and completely ignores his old family allies."

She took a deep breath to continue her rant but stopped when she heard a portrait of her ancestor roaring in laughter. "A Potter not committing social faux-pas, now that would be a sight." The painting chortled in apparent amusement.

"Never mind, Honey. You were saying…" Her mother urged her to continue. And so, she did, though she understood that most of her frustration came from the apparent loss of house cup, it wasn't as if the boy didn't make enemies in her house.

"He has involved himself in the blood feud between the Malfoys and Weasleys plenty of times. Hogwarts changes its rules for him, while allowing him to join the quidditch team in first year. He keeps company of blood traitors and muggle-born witches while keeping at a arms distance from traditional families."

"He doesn't talk about rituals and old alliances and magic yet he is apparently happy to celebrate muggle festivals. Doesn't he know how important wizarding festivals are to an old family like his?" She shook her head while thinking about the boy who was disappointing all the traditional families.

"You would think that he is the poster boy for muggle-born witches and wizards. And this is after Dumbledore informed the magical population that he was going to take care of his magical education."

"Why, it is almost like the boy is spitting on our traditions while promoting the muggle versions of them." She frowned in distaste.

"He is like the poster boy of Light who is hell bent on insulting his allies and as many traditional families as he possibly can." She paused in her tirade and blushed when she saw her mother's amused face. Her father chuckled quietly beside her.

"So, you do not like the Potter heir much, do you?" Her mother's eyes twinkled in amusement. She did her best to stare at her hands and denied answering. Of course, she didn't like the boy who insulted her traditions and her way of life every time he opened his mouth.

"It doesn't matter." She stared at her mother as she spoke, wondering what it was all about. "I think you have judged him too early, dear. Potter's were never sticklers for etiquette but they followed the traditions religiously. Keep an eye on him, honey, and he might as well surprise you."

Confused, she asked her mother for more information but was waved away. She left in a huff when she was dismissed. _What is it with everyone considering Potter to be the magic's_ _gift?_ She sighed and took a calming breath.

Her mother wouldn't have bothered asking for more information if he was not important. And that is what she was lacking. A slytherin did not act on assumptions. There was something going on with the Potter and she wanted to find out what. Well, she was going to keep an eye on the boy this year.

She would watch and decide if the boy was worth the attention he received. She hoped her time wasn't wasted. She would be most displeased if she didn't find anything interesting with the boy.

She huffed and ran to her room when she heard the voice of her sister calling her. She didn't want to waste another hour trying to get it into her sister's head that Potter didn't have a pet dragon.

**HpLcp**

**A/N-** Hope it was enjoyable. How do you like the portrayal of Daphne Greengrass? Not your usual twelve-year-old ice queen with perfect control over her emotions. Next time- Hogwarts bound.

Does anybody know how Severus Snape got the secret to visit the Potter house after their death? I tried finding that but I was unable to get any theories that made sense. Some say that the fidelius charm broke after Voldemort's attack but how was it possible when Peter only shared the secret? Some say the Dumbledore told him but I am unsure about that too. Was it a retcon on JK Rowling's part?

A galleon for your thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**\- To repeat, Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

**HpLcp**

**Chapter 4**

King's Cross Station,

London, England.

September 1st, 1992.

Flames burst a beautiful shade of emerald green in one of the many fireplaces on platform number Nine and Three quarters and Daphne Greengrass stepped out of the flames gracefully. Her luggage was held securely in her hands. With a slight swish of her wand, she vanished the soot from her clothes and luggage.

Turning back, she stared at the fireplace and huffed in frustration. Today was the first time she was asked to go to the train station by herself. _And I am only twelve._ Then again, she only had to use the Floo to get there.

Her father was busy in a business meeting, something about the latest model of enchanted mirrors. And her mother decided that a meeting with one of her associates was more important than seeing her daughter off to school. It probably was.

She smiled sadly at the realization. _At least Astoria gave me a proper farewell, even if she is unable to join me till the next year. She will make a great slytherin, I know. _She understood that work was important for her parents but it did nothing to alleviate her sadness and frustration.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed all her negative feelings to the back of her mind and stood a bit straight. It would not do her any good if people saw the heiress of Greengrass family slouching.

While walking to the Hogwarts Express, she observed many important people. Plenty of them were people she knew or was acquainted with. She recognized the Bones, Longbottoms, Abbots, Malfoys and the Parkinson family, all of them had considerable influence in their society. They were present to send off their progenies to Hogwarts.

She almost stumbled when one of her many rings heated up suddenly. Curiously, she looked around, trying to find the one responsible for it. Her eyes widened a little when she spotted a familiar figure standing near the wall. She looked away quickly before she caught their attention.

Her mother, dressed in her Unspeakable robes, was standing with a cloaked woman. They seemed to be having some sort of discussion but she couldn't be sure. Their faces were shadowed even though their hoods didn't cover their faces fully. _Some kind of cloaking spell? _

It hurt Daphne that her mother was present on the station but didn't see it fit to talk to her. Especially after the way her mother stressed the importance of her work. She felt her eyes prickle and she hastened to find herself an empty compartment before she made a scene.

Greengrass Family magics were wide and varied, full of spells and rituals and curses. Using one of those spells, with the help of her father (most of it was done by him while she helped a little bit), she was able to enchant a ring to heat up whenever her mother was nearby. This ring was their closely guarded secret.

How else was she supposed to go on her nightly visits to the restricted section of their family library? Her father encouraged her to know about ancient family magic, obscure as they were. It was something her mother didn't seem to like, especially when she did it without supervision.

She had no way of knowing that her mother had a similar ring that alerted her whenever she breached the wards around the restricted section. Or that the books in the 'restricted section' were approved by her mother.

While she was curious about the lady standing with her mother, she didn't think much about it. There was no reason to speculate. If it was anything related to the Unspeakables, she was not going to learn about it in any way. _Then again, the presence of an Unspeakable on the train station is intriguing. Curious, very curious._ She glanced towards her mother.

She would have waited for her friends and joined them if she was not so upset that her parents ditched her for work. Especially her mother. It was likely that she was not going to see her parents for a major part of the year and she would have liked to have a proper farewell as opposed to the rushed goodbyes she was given.

Finding an empty compartment, she casted a Notice-me-not charm on the door and windows and placed her luggage near the windows. She had no desire to spend the whole train ride in company of people she didn't know.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, she tried to calm her raging emotions. It did nothing to stop a few tears from escaping. Her mother must have had a very good reason for her actions. A very good reason that she would never know about. She decided to enjoy the trip to Hogwarts in silence with her books. What else could she do?

It was too bad that she wasn't allowed to have any books about family magic from their library. Or any books related to arcane magics for that matter. But she understood the importance of that knowledge and agreed. She didn't have to like it though.

_There are plenty of good books in the world._ She consoled herself as she took out the latest edition of the 'Forgotten Rituals and How to do them' and began reading.

_Mother would likely have my hide if I was caught reading this material. Heh, I would be grounded for even getting my hands near this book, rare and illegal as it is. But only in magical Britain._ She felt a rush of excitement as she opened the book.

A little while later, she was absolutely certain that she was not going to even think of doing half of the rituals described in the book. Ever. But it was good to know about the forgotten history of spell-work and rituals, the lengths people went to in order to gain eternal beauty, immortality and things like that.

Even if plenty of things mentioned were just hypothesis and flimsy theories. She made sure to read the fine print before buying this book. Besides her mother did warn her not to do any rituals without her permission.

She was so lost in her book of fascinating yet morbid rituals that she didn't hear the sound of knocking. She did jump in fright when the door opened and someone entered her compartment.

Slamming her book shut with haste, not wanting anyone to find her reading one of the more _interesting_ rituals in the book, she turned to look at the intruder with narrowed eyes. She hoped that her flaming red face didn't ruin the effect of her trademarked mean glare.

She wondered how her 'notice-me-not' charm allowed the intruder to notice the compartment but decided to not pay it much thought, assuming that the charm's effects had worn off. She was twelve- almost thirteen, and understandably not magically powerful enough to maintain the spell for long durations.

Her eyes narrowed further when she saw Harry Potter staring at her with a confused look. His eyes flickered from her face to the book in her hands momentarily and she felt her face get warm. Before she could say anything in her defence, the boy straightened up and smiled disarmingly in her direction.

"My apologies for intruding. I knocked a few times but when no one answered, I assumed that this compartment was empty." Harry grinned apologetically in her direction when she nodded cautiously. _He is apologizing. Now that's a first._ She hid her shock almost perfectly. If Harry saw her surprise, he didn't comment on it.

"Would you mind terribly if I join you?" Daphne's eyes widened at the request before her training kicked in and she nodded her consent wordlessly with a small fake smile. She was still too confused seeing the changed Harry Potter in front of her.

Gone was the boy who tried to make himself as small as humanly possible by slouching and dressing in rags that were a few sizes too big for him. Instead, the boy in front of her was standing straight with squared shoulders and his head raised high. He was, surprisingly, dressed in good clothes. Anything was good compared to the rags he wore last year.

What was more astounding were the changed spectacles! The ugly, broken spectacles held together by cello tape were replaced by new glasses. _They were the source of much amusement among my peers._ The boy seemed to be, finally, dressed as someone of his stature should.

She stared at the boy as he placed his bags and sat with a book in his hands. She glanced at his snowy owl for a moment. No one could deny that the white owl was beautiful. Her eyes narrowed and she felt herself being amused when she read the title, 'Latin for Dummies'.

"I would have never assumed that you would sit with snakes, Potter." She noted with a bit of sarcasm. Left unsaid was his usual preference of company. She was not a Malfoy who would spout nonsense without any reason. Her eyes glinted with suspicion as she observed the boy who, seemingly, caught her parent's interest out of nowhere.

Personally, she didn't find anything special and that was the only reason she didn't interact with the boy in her first year. She had no desire to play nice with someone who disrespected their traditions while belonging to an old family. Muggles and muggle-borns, she could understand.

Even now, he was disrespecting his social superior by not greeting her properly. _A Potter not making a social faux pas…_ The words and subsequent laughter of her ancestor's portrait echoed in her head and she sighed mentally.

Well, at least he seems to follow his family's way of not giving a damn about standards and customs of their society. _Besides, this is not a formal setting anyway._ She was just another student in the same year as him.

"And I would have never assumed you to be alright with my company, Miss Greengrass." Harry answered with a small smile, watching her frown.

She noted that he was familiar with her name and that he didn't use her given name like he usually did with everyone in their previous year. That confused her even more. _Is he finally using manners? Or did he start getting his much-needed etiquette lessons?_

"Where are your friends?" She asked, deciding to ignore his answer for the time being while casting another Notice-me-not charm at the door discreetly. This was a good chance to know more about the supposed 'saviour' of their world.

"I have no idea." Harry smiled while staring outside. Following him, she, too, saw outside and almost snorted in amusement when she saw a bunch of red heads rushing amongst the crowd. She winced when the Weasley matriarch's shrill voice hit her ears.

"Right." She drawled, causing the boy to look at her in surprise. _Malfoy isn't the only one who can drawl._ "Have you finally decided to ditch them then?" She asked in confusion.

Harry remembered a conversation he had with his great-grandmother's portrait.

_"So, this Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger are your best-friends?" Harry's eyes narrowed a bit at the disdain in Dorea's voice._

_"Yes." He answered a bit frostily._

_"Don't take that tone with me, young man." Dorea sniffed in disdain. "I am not judging them per se. I just want to know who my great-grandson associates with."_

_Abashed, he nodded with a nervous smile._

_"Well?" Dorea prompted after a bit of silence. She sighed when Harry stared at her. "What about others? Any other friends? Bones? Longbottoms? Greengrass? Tonks?"_

_"No." Harry looked away when he saw her disapproving frown._

_"Why? There is no such thing as too many friends. Why limit yourself to only two good friends?" Dorea sighed. "You realize that these friends you make will be very helpful in your life, don't you?" That was her inner slytherin making her presence known._

_"You don't get it, do you?" She pinched her nose in frustration when Harry blinked curiously. "Magical community, Harry, is not as vast as the muggle one. The last two wars made the situation worse than it was. These friends… these connections you make now will be very helpful in the future if you decide to pursue a career."_

_"Especially…" Dorea hesitated for moment. "… in your case, Harry. Twice now, you have defeated the Dark Lord. I know… I know that the Dark Lord was vanquished by your Mother. But how many people know that? Does the Dark Lord know that? The Dark Lord considers you to be the one responsible for his demise."_

_"The whole magical world considers you to be the one who defeated the Dark Lord. You are the only known person to survive the killing curse. And you have, yet again, foiled his plans. Do you really think the Dark Lord won't pursue revenge?"_

_Harry gulped in fear. Could he survive another encounter with the Dark Lord again? How long would his luck last?_

_"You see it, don't you? You are going to need all the help you can get if you want to survive against the Dark Lord when he returns. Make no mistake, he will return again. And unlike you, he already has people working for him in the ministry. A vast majority of his followers are free, upstanding people of the society." She explained gently. Her lips curled in a sneer when she descried the Death-eaters._

_"You think that they are just waiting for the Dark Lord to return? No, they are actively trying to get and hold more and more power in our society. Notts, Malfoys, MacNair and many, many more… Every day is fight to get, hold and secure as much power as they can for their Lord. And let's not forget about his more brutal followers. They are waiting in Azkaban for their Lord to rescue them. You think a prison will stop the Dark Lord once he attains his body?"_

_"Against all this…" She paused, considering her next statement. "What does one Harry Potter have? Two friends, many acquaintances and the old crowd (people who fought against the Dark Lord in the first war) who may not even want to involve themselves in the war again. How will young, average, naïve Harry Potter survive when the Dark Lord decides to take revenge?"_

_"Who will Harry Potter rely on? A muggle-born witch who might decide to leave for the safety of her family? A Weasley whose family has already seen one war and may not want to participate again? Who will help you, Harry?" Dorea stared at the squirming boy._

_"Dumbledore…" Harry hesitated, desperately wanting that to be true. "Dumbledore will help me. He will train me, teach me what I need to know. People say that Dumbledore was the only man the Dark Lord…"_

_"…feared." Dorea completed a tad bit sarcastically. "Yes, Voldemort might have feared Dumbledore one day. But that was the case over a decade ago. Dumbledore is already too old and he isn't going to get any younger." _

_"And how much will Dumbledore be able to teach you? You will still have to learn a lot by yourself before you are even qualified to be taught by someone of Dumbledore's stature. The Dark Lord has over five decades of experience. You think there was no one with that much experience in magical combat? What do you think happened to those who fought him? Besides Dumbledore, no one is alive now." She didn't want to share the story about the fate of Longbottoms yet. It was, if anything, worse than death._

_"I ask again, Harry. Do you plan to fight alone when he returns? Why do you not mix with other students? Why limit yourself to two friends? What is stopping you from making friends? Let's not take the Dark Lord into consideration. Why do you not interact with children of families that have stood with the Potters for generations?"_

_"Why insult them and your family's history by ignoring them in this manner?" Dorea stared at her great-grandchild who tried to stutter excuses._

_"I didn't know." Harry mumbled, staring at his feet._

_"That's not the real reason." She raised an eye-brow at his surprised face._

_"They stare." He mumbled._

_"A little louder, Harry."_

_"I said that they stare and then whisper behind my back like I am some animal on display." He frowned remembering all the times he was pointed and talked about._

_"And?" Dorea asked in a careless tone. "Tell me, didn't your friends stare at you like that when you first met them? Did they not ask to see your famous scar or talk about what they read or heard about you?"_

_"They did." Harry muttered, understanding where this was going._

_"And yet you gave them the chance to know Harry Potter, didn't you? You gave them the chance to learn that you were not this magical creature called 'The-boy-who-lived' from the stories, didn't you?"_

_"Yes." He answered with a weak smile._

_"Then why the double-standards, Harry?" Dorea sighed. "You know, your mother suffered from this as well…"_

He shook himself out of his thoughts and smiled at Daphne. "Am I supposed to always be in company of two people?" He asked back. He would not make the same mistake as his mother.

"Besides, I find myself in _lovely_ company at the moment." She was certain that he was being sarcastic but decided to make no comments about it.

"I am sure you are enjoying my company." She drawled with a smug smile of her own, happy to continue bantering with him. For someone known to be arrogant and whiny, he was making a much better impression by not being a stuck up. It went against everything Malfoy told them. Then again, she would never trust the word of a Malfoy anyway.

Harry smiled in her direction before turning his attention to the book. And soon after that the Hogwarts Express began its journey. Daphne returned the smile with one of her own and began reading her book again. This time making sure to avoid reading things that would make her blush. The shade of a Weasley's red hair would not suit her face.

They continued reading in silence, occasionally glancing at each other with a small frown. None of them found the other as they expected them to be. Then again, all they knew about each other was hearsay and their own assumptions.

_Headstrong Gryffindor._

_Slimy Slytherin._

The train was yet to leave the station when Daphne noticed an ethereal raven flying next to her window. _Use your heiress's ring and find me at Leaky Cauldron, 9'o clock. _She heard her mother's voice inside her head and watched as the raven dissolved in mist.

_Mother's modified messenger spell? Interesting. Maybe I will get to know something about her meeting?_ Excitement bubbled in her chest. She glanced at her current partner who seemed to be lost in his own book, not that he could see or hear the message, and leaned against the window. She carefully closed her book and made sure that it wouldn't fall.

Making sure that Harry wouldn't notice, she twisted her invisible heir's ring four times in anti-clockwise direction before muttering, "Magicae spiritus y tempus itinerantur."

Greengrass family magic- ancient and intoxicating, hummed under her skin. She took a moment to feel the familiar coolness of the magic. It was calm, it was vast. It was old yet restless. And it was hers for the moment.

It called to her, demanding her to achieve her potential. The magic hummed in delight when she wielded it with her ring as the foci. She could practically feel the magic magnify exponentially in strength and power. It was blissful and for a moment she didn't want it to end. The raw power… that intoxicating feeling… the possibilities… they were endless. And it was all within her grasp.

She felt the world fade as the spell took effect. And at that moment she was, once again, reminded of advice her father gave when she first felt her family magic.

_Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Remember that every time you use our family magic._

Harry watched curiously as his companion closed her eyes for a few moments before opening them again. He raised an eyebrow when she stared at him with a curious look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to see through him.

If he didn't think it impossible, he would have thought of her as a completely different person. She seemed a bit more interested in him. Her eyes looked at him with a focus that wasn't present when they conversed earlier.

Harry shrugged to himself and continued reading his book. It contained many notes on the basics of potion making that his ancestors compiled through years of hard work and research. Apparently, there were plenty of good potion brewers in his family. And it was one of the few books he was allowed to take with him anywhere he wanted.

**HpLcp**

Daphne looked around herself. The world was a shade of white, black and different shades of grey. The empty platform was a sharp contradiction to what she saw that morning. There was no Hogwarts express present on the platform. There was almost no one on the platform. It was just empty.

She stared at her transparent, grey form and smiled. _I love this spell. It's extremely useful._ She stared making her way out of the station. _It's around 7'o clock now, plenty of time to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Mother left the house at 8, I am sure I can get to know more if I am a bit early. No such thing as too much information._

She sighed and started walking in the direction of Leaky Cauldron. It was a good thing she knew how to get there. While being able to pass through solid objects, she wished she was able to turn into an animagus as well.

She was sure it would be something that could fly. It would make it so easy for her to travel as well. Alas, she was too young to even think of trying that out.

But, hey, a girl could dream, right?

**HpLcp**

It was half-past eight when she reached the Leaky Cauldron. She got distracted many times when she came across something that caught her eye. It was the first time she got a chance to explore the muggle world by herself. It didn't matter if she was a spirit or not.

She looked around the Leaky Cauldron but couldn't spot her mother anywhere. Sighing, she raised her wand again and whispered the incantation for her family's modified version of the 'Point me' spell. "Point me Lady Greengrass."

_Well, it's my lucky day. Mother's in the range of the spell._ She frowned curiously when it pointed away from the Leaky Cauldron and into the Diagon Alley. _Well, it's my fault for being early. I shouldn't have expected her to be having breakfast with that lady._ She huffed and started walking in the direction her wand was pointing.

Diagon Alley was not as crowded as it was when she last visited to get her school supplies. But then again, Diagon Alley was very busy during that time of the year. Besides, it was very early anyway. She passed the Apothecary, Floren Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Floursih and Blotts and many others before eventually spotting her mother at the one place she didn't expect.

Her ring heated up momentarily when she got close. Her mother was standing with the same lady she had noticed at the train station. Behind them, the entrance to the Knockturn Alley loomed in all of its dark and terrifying glory. Despite her initial fear, she felt a rush of excitement. _I get to see the Knockturn Alley? Isn't that just wonderful?_

This was her first, and probably only visit to the infamous dark alley, and she felt thrilled at the prospect. Anything you wanted for dark arts or rituals was available there. Rare, forbidden, illegal, it didn't matter what kind of item one required. Everything could be bought in the Knockturn alley. For the right price, of course.

"Stay close and don't touch anything." She heard her mother's voice as she neared. _Of course. I am not that stupid._ She didn't say anything but followed them in to the dark and dingy alley obediently. Something rustled behind them but when she turned, it was gone. Frightened, she rushed to join her mother.

Her mother and the mysterious lady remained silent as they passed several shops. Their faces were shadowed and both wore dark robes. She moved her head back and forth, eager to take in the sights. But she made sure to remain near them.

She felt a shiver run down her spine when she saw human bones on display at a shop named Dystyl Phaelanges. She gulped when she identified the 'poisonous candles' and 'evil-looking masks. Unconsciously, she got closer to her mother as they continued to travel the twisting paths of the alley.

She watched curiously when one human 'eye' hanging outside a shop followed their movements. Nasty shrunken skulls were lined on display in one shop, and two doors down, a cage full of large black spiders rattled and they clacked their jaws menacingly.

She started when an old witch suddenly jumped in their path. "You wouldn't happen to want these fresh muggle fingernails, would ya?" She smiled a crooked smile. Her black, rotten teeth made Daphne cringe in disgust.

"I tell ya, dearies. You won't find better, genuine articles anywhere else in the whole alley." Daphne cringed again when the old lady pushed a tray full of what looked like whole human finger nails towards them.

Lady Greengrass pushed the tray away and continued walking without a word. Her companion gave a chuckle before following her. "We don't have time for you, Miss. Maybe some other time." Stunned at her mother's behaviour, Daphne followed quietly.

The yells of the old woman rang behind them as she tried to collect her supplies. Those were some colourful curses she got introduced to that day.

Eventually, they turned and climbed a set of stairs near 'Markus Scarrs Indelible Tattoos' and came to a stop in front of a small pawnbrokers shop next door to The White Wyvern pub.

"Stay here and don't touch anything." Daphne rolled her eyes at her mother's instructions. _Is she even talking to me?_ It was not like she could touch anything. She was a spirit at the moment. Her mother walked in with her companion while she waited.

Daphne strained her ears to listen curiously.

"-yes, yes. Of course, I was able to procure some of the items on your rather large list. Rare as they-" An oily voiced spoke and Daphne could imagine an old looking man, with a crooked nose and little hair on his head, rubbing his hands greedily.

"-and what of the things you could not procure-" the lady with her mother asked in a cold tone.

"-of course, of course. For a little bit more, I am sure I can manage to-" Daphne chuckled at the blatant attempt to make more galleons. She missed the next bit of conversation.

"-will find someone else. Good day-" He was answered in the same cold tone.

Wordlessly, they traced their steps back to the entrance of Knockturn alley. Only after they were back in the Diagon Alley did they speak again. "You are as shrewd as ever." Lady Greengrass chuckled as they walked towards the Leaky Cauldron. "May I ask what you need those items for? There are some questionable uses for some of the items I saw."

"Of course, you may not." Her mother's companion sniffed in distaste. "You know better than to ask such questions, dear."

Daphne looked on curiously when her mother dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Our guest seems to have arrived."

They entered the Leaky Cauldron and nodded to the bartender, who returned the gesture nervously, before walking upstairs and towards their room. Another cloaked figure stood up from a corner and followed them without a word.

The last figure closed the door behind her and removed her hood. "This better be important." Madam Amelia Bones spoke with a stern look on her face. "I am busy enough as it is."

Daphne was surprised to see the Head of DMLE in the room. _This is getting interesting_. She watched as her mother removed her own cloak and set it aside. "You look well, Amelia." Her mother smiled.

"Sophia." Amelia nodded with a small frown. "You are doing well, I hope?" Her tone was frigid as she stared at her long-time friend.

"Come now." Cassiopeia Black removed her own hood and smiled. "There is no need to bitch at each other. I thought you were past that stage."

"No, we are not." Both ladies answered in perfect unison before huffing and turning away from each other. Though Daphne could see a small smile on their face.

"Ah, this reminds of the old times." Cassiopeia sighed ruefully with a small smile.

"Anyways," Amelia interrupted with a frown. "Shouldn't you be dead?" She asked with suspicion. _Surely, she would not use rituals to cheat death, right? Besides, Sophia seems to trust her. But, can I trust her?_

Daphne's head was starting to spin. _My mother is friends with the 'Iron Lady' Amelia Bones. I thought they were just bitter duelling rivals. And Cassiopeia Black is alive? That's… not as strange as it looks._ She knew reading history books were useful. Blacks were notoriously good at faking their death. _Just what did I get myself involved with? _

"I should be." Cassiopeia affirmed with a small sardonic smile. Amelia shook her head in amusement. "But, you know, family comes first. Why don't you introduce yourself to these beautiful ladies?"

Daphne frowned in confusion. _Who is she talking to?_ Then her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Harry Potter appearing out of thin air, a cloak in his hand. _A real invisibility cloak?_ She thought in amazement. Those were incredibly rare and very, very expensive.

_Was he with us all this time? Was mother talking to him all this time?_ Her face flushed in realization. There was no way for her mother to know for certain that she was with them all this time. She was even more confused when Harry was introduced to her mother. _What is going on? Shouldn't they know each other if mother was talking to him all this time?_

"Harry. This is my apprentice Lady Sophia Greengrass." Harry kissed the back of her mother's hand with a small murmur of 'a pleasure to meet you'. "You might know her daughter, Daphne Greengrass."

Harry blinked in confusion, it made Sophia smile. "The rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is still going strong, I see." Sophia's comment made Harry blush in embarrassment and he ran a hand through his hair in nervousness.

"I am sure he will rectify that as soon as the opportunity presents, won't you Harry?" Harry nodded sheepishly before he was introduced to Amelia. "And this is someone I used to work with, Madam Amelia Bones. She is the Head of the DMLE."

Harry repeated the same greeting again, feeling a bit relieved when no one stared at his scar. "Are you related to Susan Bones?" Harry asked with a polite smile.

_So, he does know how to greet a lady properly._ Daphne pouted.

At the mention of her niece, a small smile formed on Amelia's stern face. "Yes, I am her aunt. She has a lot of interesting things to say about you, Mister Potter. Youngest seeker in a century. Very impressive, I must say. Very impressive indeed."

_Not to mention those strange rumours about Professor Quirrell. And the recent matter of underage magic. She glanced at Cassiopeia Black. I think I can let the matter drop for now. This meeting seems to be more important than a closed case of underage magic._

Harry smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. "It's nothing special. I just like flying, that's all."

"Indeed." Amelia raised an eyebrow at the boy's bashful behaviour before turning serious. "I take it that there is a reason for this meeting."

Daphne frowned at the sudden change of mood in the room. "Help me with the privacy charms." Cassiopeia Black took out her wand and started muttering incantations. Sophia followed suit and after a moment of staring, Amelia followed their lead.

After the wards were erected, Cassiopeia took out a pensieve. It was a wide and shallow dish made of metal, there were intricate marking on it. "You know what this is, don't you?"

"A pensieve. A rare one at that." Amelia frowned and took a seat near the pensieve. "Did something happen?"

"You can decide that for yourself." Sophia took a seat opposite her. Her grave face worried Daphne.

"Harry, you know what to do." At Cassiopeia's prompting, Harry took out his wand and touched its tip to his temple. Concentrating on the memory, he pulled it out. A long white strand was pulled out of his head, which he placed in the pensieve.

Daphne leaned forward curiously and watched as Cassiopeia muttered a spell and touched the runes etched on the pensieve with her own wand. "This is Harry's memory from some time ago. A strange elf delivered a warning at his residence."

Daphne leaned forward in anticipation. _Let's see where the 'great' Harry Potter lives._ She imagined a large manor with many elves to serve him. A lavish lifestyle fit for the 'saviour' of their world. She was not prepared for the small muggle room that took shape above the pensieve.

As the memory played, she felt herself being amused. _Someone must have sent their elf to play a trick on him. Poor boy. He is scared of a joke. Is he really a Gryffindor?_ She then noticed the small room. There were barely any personal decorations in them.

The cat flap on the door and the bars on the window, the beautiful snowy owl locked in its cage raised warning bells in her mind. A small, old bed near the window. The suspicious lack of magical items.

Many eyes narrowed when they observed the room in Harry's memories. Daphne, personally, found it hard to swallow that this was where the 'great' Harry Potter lived. _Is that a store room?_

Her eyes narrowed and she tried to remember every detail before focusing on the memory. With a frown, she realized that they were not shown the full memory of the event.

_"…But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him of the dangers at Hogwarts… Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."_

_There was a silence broken only by the chinks of knives and forks._

_"Wh-what?" Harry stammered. "But the term starts in September. I have to be at Hogwarts by then. It's the only thing keeping me going."_

Sophia's eye narrowed at the statement. _Just what was wrong in the boy's life?_ She wondered in worry.

_"No, no, no." squeaked Dobby, his ears flapping. "If Harry Potter goes back, he will be in mortal danger."_

Amelia raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to take a good look at the elf.

_"Why?" Harry asked in surprise._

_"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year." Dobby whispered. "Dobby has known it for months now. Harry Potter must not put himself in danger."_

There was silence in the room as the memory ended. The amusement felt by Daphne was, fortunately, not shared by others.

Even if everyone noticed the condition Harry lived in, it was not the topic of discussion at that moment. Amelia made a note to discuss it at a later date.

"A likely prank by one of the students. I don't think it is anything to worry about." _The elf might have been responsible for the magic. _Amelia mused and stared at the grave faces of her companions with a frown. "What is it?" She asked cautiously after a moment of silence.

Daphne blinked in confusion when Harry retrieved the memory. She watched curiously as the boy moved away and stared out of the window with a pensive look on his face.

"As you have already noticed, the memory was not complete." Cassiopeia confessed in grave tone. "Without context, the warning doesn't make much sense. It seems like a simple prank on surface but I assure you that there is more going on than we know."

"What do you know of events that took place at the end of last academic year in Hogwarts?" Cassiopeia asked Amelia seriously who frowned at the sudden change of subject.

"The DADA curse again. Terrible business, that curse." Amelia sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Professor Quirrell was very talented too. It's a shame we aren't able to remove it, it is."

Daphne blinked. _Is she suggesting what I think she is? _Her throat was suddenly dry, she felt sick. She glanced at her mother who looked resigned. _Dear Merlin…_

"Professor Dumbledore informed me about that. Professor Quirrell. Another victim of the curse, I suppose. We can assume that…" Amelia trailed off. _And then, there are those wild rumours that Susan brought. Though I don't know how much truth they contain. Unless…_ Cassiopeia shared a look with Sophia, who nodded and closed her eyes.

"Then you will be most interested in seeing this" Amelia leaned forward a bit as Cassiopeia turned to Harry and gave a small nod. "Just like we discussed, Harry." Cassiopeia glanced in Sophia's direction who nodded grimly.

Harry sighed. The memories were still fresh in his mind. The blood-curdling screams of his professor, the smell of burning flesh, the accusing eyes… With a resigned smile and shaky hands, he proceeded to repeat the process. _It is important to show that the memories are mine and they are untampered._ He told himself. _It is important. I must do it._

_A large chamber formed above the penseive. There was a mirror in the centre with Quirrell in front of it. Harry was lying on the floor behind the professor, bound in ropes._

Daphne gasped in surprise. Amelia leaned forward to take a closer look.

_"Use the boy… Use the boy…" The voice came from Quirrell but his lips didn't move._

_Quirrell rounded on Harry, who was trying to get away._

_"Potter- you come here."_

_Quirrell clapped his hands once, and ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet._

_"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."_

_Harry walked towards the mirror._

_Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again._

_Harry saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket. _

_"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"_

"What is that mirror?" Amelia murmured softly to herself.

"The mirror of Erised." Harry answered without looking at her. "It shows your deepest desire."

"And the stone?" Amelia asked curiously. Her mind working furiously.

Harry hesitated for a moment. "The Philosopher's stone."

Daphne breathed sharply.

Amelia muttered a curse.

_"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he answered. "I — I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."_

Daphne frowned. Somehow, she didn't believe that.

_Quirrell cursed again._

_"Get out of the way," he said._

_But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips._

_"He lies…He lies.…"_

_"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"_

_The high voice spoke again._

_"Let me speak to him…face-to-face…"_

_"Master, you are not strong enough!"_

_"I have strength enough…for this…"_

_Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot._

Daphne screamed in fright. Sophia and Cassiopeia nodded gravely when Amelia stared at them in disbelief.

_Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, a most terrible face. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake._

_"Harry Potter…" it whispered._

_"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor….I have form only when I can share another's body…but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks…you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own….Now…why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"_

"Unicorn blood?" Amelia repeated, horrified at the mere implications. "You saw that?"

Harry nodded. "In a detention in the Forbidden Forest."

Amelia cursed again.

Daphne grimaced. _So, the things Malfoy spoke were true._ She didn't feel too happy about that.

_Harry stumbled backward._

_"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me…or you'll meet the same end as your parents…They died begging me for mercy…"_

_"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly._

_Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling._

_"How touching…" it hissed. "I always value bravery….Yes, boy, your parents were brave…I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight…but your mother needn't have died…she was trying to protect you…Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."_

_"NEVER!"_

_Harry sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. He yelled, struggling with all his might. Quirrell let go of him. He looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers — they were blistering before his eyes._

_"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck. Quirrell howled in agony._

_"Master, I cannot hold him — my hands — my hands!"_

_And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms — they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny._

_"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort._

_Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face —_

_"AAAARGH!"_

Daphne closed her eyes and covered her ears. She didn't want to watch any further. She couldn't watch any further. It was all too much for the girl.

_Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too._

_Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off._

The next bit of memory was a visual blur. Yet, the screams remained painfully clear.

_"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"_

_"Harry! Harry!"_

There was an eerie, uncomfortable silence after the memory finished playing. Daphne opened her eyes cautiously and sighed in relief when she saw that the memory was over.

_So, there is something special about Potter after all._ Daphne glanced at the boy. _What is it so special about you?_

Amelia leaned back and rubbed her head. "So, he isn't gone after all?" She glanced at the surprised faces of Sophia and Cassiopeia and chuckled humourlessly. _And it also confirms that the Potters did something to ensure the safety of their child. A ritual perhaps…_

"What?" Amelia asked rhetorically. "We have always had our suspicions regarding the measures the Dark Lord took to preserve his _life_." She said in distaste. "And I can see why you are concerned about the elf's warning as well."

Sophia nodded. "What I want to know is how Mister Potter found himself in that situation. Do we have enough time for that as well?" She asked softly.

"I think…" Cassiopeia cut in before anything could be said, "…that we should continue this at a later that. I will have Harry's memories with me. There is no need to have Harry relive them again and again."

Daphne glanced at the boy. His skin was pale and sweaty. He was fumbling with a small vial.

"Here, let me help you with that." Cassiopeia helped him drink its content. Harry muttered his thanks in a weak voice.

"Very well." Sophia conceded, identifying the calming draught with a single glance. "Let's meet in a few days then. I am sure Amelia would want to discuss more about the Dark Lord."

Amelia nodded with a frown. "I understand that this has been a stressful ordeal for you, Mister Potter. But do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

Harry nodded his acceptance cautiously and retrieved his memory from the pensieve.

"This Mirror of Erised… How did it work for you?"

"The mirror would work for the one who wanted to find the stone but not use it." Harry recited from memory. "That's what Dumbledore said when I asked him the same question. I… I was able to find the mirror before it was used to hide the stone."

Harry glanced away and continued. "I… The mirror showed me standing with my parents. I spent many nights sitting in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection and wishing for it to be true." He wiped his cheeks. Daphne looked away.

"I used to do that every night from the day I found the mirror until Dumbledore found me and explained how the mirror worked." He smiled weakly when Lady Greengrass squeezed his shoulder.

Amelia cleared her throat softly and murmured a soft apology. "Tell me about the traps you faced before the mirror. Wait, I think I will see that in the memory. Why don't tell me if there were any traps at all?"

"Yes, there were quite a few." His answer made Amelia frown. Sophia shook her head when she realized what her friend was trying.

"And you were able to get past them by yourself?" She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"A few of my friends helped me." He admitted hesitantly.

_Granger and Weasley, I am sure._ Daphne looked on, wondering if he was in trouble.

"I see." Amelia wrote something on a piece of parchment with a muggle pen.

"While I am curious to know how you found out about the Philosopher's stone and how you suspected that an attempt was going to be made on that day, it can wait." She stared at him with a small frown. "Tell me, did you go to a professor with your suspicions?"

"Yes, we went to find Headmaster Dumbledore. But Professor McGonagall said he was not in the school. We shared out suspicions with her then." He admitted. "She told us that the stone the stone was safe and to not worry about it."

"I see." Amelia muttered softly. "Tell me Harry, would Quirrell have been able to get the stone?"

"No." Harry hesitated. "I don't think he would have been able to get it out of the mirror."

"Were you aware of the traps before you went to save the stone?" She asked with a frown.

"We only knew about one of them." He answered.

"Did Professor McGonagall try to stop you from going?" She asked, leaning forward to look into his eyes.

"Twice." He admitted. "Once, when we went to find Headmaster and again when we tried to go by ourselves."

Daphne snorted. _Typical Gryffindor-ish behaviour._

Harry knew that Amelia was unimpressed, if her face was any indication.

"So, let me get this straight." She straightened in her seat and glanced at her fellow adults. "You repeatedly ignored warnings from your professor and went after the stone yourself. All because of mere suspicions, if I may assume."

"If that was not enough, you went and dragged a few of your classmates in the ordeal too." She shook her head. "I don't know whether you call you brave or stupid. What would you have done if there were any truly lethal traps for the protection of the stone?"

Harry remained silent.

"The mere fact that a handful of students, most likely from first year?" She continued when he nodded. "Yes. The mere fact that you were able to get passed the traps means that someone changed them so that you could reach the mirror."

_There is no other way someone like Professor McGonagall would be confident in the safety of a magical artefact if it wasn't truly protected._ She thought to herself and continued to her observation.

"And while I am glad that you and everyone that followed you are safe. The only thing you did was put yourself and others in needless danger. You most definitely didn't save us from the return of the Dark Lord. Instead you endangered the life of others by not listening to the authority."

"But what if the Dark Lord got his hands on the philosopher's stone?" He asked in a squeaky tone. _What if he actually succeeded? _

"Then he would have spent the next few decades trying to figure out how to make the elixir of life." Amelia answered easily. "What? You think it is easy to get the elixir of life form a stone?"

"Nobody knows how the stone works, Mister Potter." She explained. "It's a closely guarded secret of the Flamels. And even if he got the stone. What's to say that it wasn't fake?"

Harry stared at her blankly. He was feeling like an idiot now. At least no one was hurt. His own words about the stone rang in his mind. His speech about the Dark Lord's return in front of his friend seemed foolish now.

_Could it really be true? Did I endanger others because I was too caught up in myself that I didn't want to believe anyone else? Professor McGonagall told me the stone was safe. I should have listened to her. Why didn't I?_

"Dumbledore could have had the stone in his pocket when he left the school and no one would have known. Did you consider that possibility before running off to save the day?" She shook her head when the boy refused to meet her eyes.

"I didn't." He mumbled.

"And what would you have done if Quirrell started attacking you with magic? You are lucky that he was unable to touch you. In any other circumstances, you would have faced a terrible fate for charging in foolishly like that." Harry winced when his own thoughts were used against him.

Sophia and Cassiopeia smiled in sympathy.

"Mister Potter." Amelia sighed. "I do hope that you will learn from this and think before doing anything like this again in the future."

Harry nodded.

"Very well then." Amelia smiled at the boy and stood up. "Allow me to escort you to the train station. I would like to formally introduce to my niece as well."

**HpLcp**

**A/N** \- Long time no see?


End file.
